Hey, the gods want you for a meeting
Adele R. McDowell, Ph.D.
June 16, 2008
The Set-Up
It´s been another one of those non-stop days. You have fielded phone calls, managed personalities and spent way too many hours glued to your computer. Lunch was some plastic-wrapped something that you vaguely remember eating; it was scarfed down on the run.
But, now the day feels done, or as done as it´s going to be at this moment in time. You are ready to head out the door when you hear your name called. Like a prairie dog, you lift your head and follow the sound down the hall like it was a trail of olfactory delights. "Hey, the gods want to talk to you," hollers one of your teammates.
Your stomach drops. "What could this possibly mean?" you wonder. You have been working like a demon, juggling so much.
You take a deep breath, probably your first of the day. "Let me get this over with now," you mutter to yourself as you trudge down the hall to Central Administration.
You are told to report tomorrow morning at 9 a.m. for a meeting with the gods.
"This must be big," you think to yourself. "The gods rarely call me in for a meeting. Maybe I am getting a promotion?" you surmise, and you smile at the thought.
The Story:
You present yourself at the appointed hour.
The gods ask you to step behind the dark velvet curtain and to sit in the cosmic sunroom until they are ready for you. You willingly agree; you are happy for the chance to rest in the light, however brief it might be. The room is very relaxing and soothing. You see a bunch of the off-duty gods playing bacci ball in a corner of the universe.
Despite the peaceful surroundings, your mind begins to wander, and you wonder anew as to why you have been chosen for this meeting. The longer you wait, the more your mind spins into wildly dramatic scenarios. You recognize that you are now officially nervous; you are ready for this meeting to be over.
No sooner does the thought cross your mind and the heavy, velvet curtain is pulled back, and you are beckoned into the board room. You are initially blinded by the light. This room is bright, very bright. In fact, this room is practically all windows. It´s as if this room was plunked smack in the middle of glorious park. You look out and see huge, leafy, green trees, gardens rich with color and swirls of rivers. The vista is amazing.
Inside the room, there is an enormous conference table surrounded by the gods of the month. (Yes, the gods rotate their shifts on a monthly basis. Where do you think the idea of book-of-the-month club came from?) They are, as to be expected, seated in throne-like chairs. The atmosphere is somber; your anxiety is sky high.
The gods direct you to take a seat in your own thrown-like chair, and the meeting is called to order.
There is one agenda item for today´s meeting; the gods tell you there is one, and only, one question that is of interest to them today. They ask, "Why aren´t you having more fun?"
"What?" you ask incredulously, "are you serious?"
The gods explain: "We want to know why you are not having more fun. You have not even met your quota for "sufficient fun" for the past few months. You are woefully behind in your numbers. It has become a matter of deep concern. You are working too hard, doing too much, making everyone else happy, but you have forgotten to have fun. We understand that you have commitments and responsibilities. Nonetheless, we want to remind you that fun is a very important, relevant part of life.
"I have quotas for fun?" you asked in a high-pitched voice with your eyes wild with disbelief.
"Yes, everyone needs to have fun in their lives, and if they don´t, then we gods get together and have a little fun of our own … to help you along."
You are incensed. You work night and day, and this Mickey Mouse stuff in on their agenda.
"Look," you say, "I have more important things to do than to make time for fun. Fun is a waste of my time. If you are so concerned about the numbers, check out my other life numbers, they are over the top."
The gods nod their heads. They seem amused at your ire. You are ready to lob the candy dish at their heads.
One of the gods pulls out the Authorized Fun Handbook, and reads: "Fun operates from high-octane energy. Fun opens you to creativity. Fun relieves stress. Fun is in the here and now; and fun is connecting."
"Oh, boy," you think to yourself, "They don´t make fun sound very fun."
Then, with a bit of snarky smile behind your eyes, you ask, "Uh….exactly what do you mean by the word ´fun´?" Could you give me some examples?"
The gods are not amused. They thunder in response, "You know what fun is!"
You are flabbergasted at their very poor timing, don´t they realize how complicated your life is right now.
You begin to whine, "Really, I don´t have the time for fun. You just don´t understand how busy I am. I have a major deadline this month. When could I do this? Next month, I promise, next month, or the one after that, when my schedule is better, I will make sure I plan some fun then. Plus I don´t have the money for real fun right now, so let´s just put this on the backburner for a few months, and we can talk about this matter of fun then. Just wait, I´ll show you. Give me a little time, and I will be on top of my numbers. Hell, I´ll even be over my quota. What do you say? Can we talk next quarter?"
The gods respond with waves of stony silence. And the silence fills the room, and you realize that you cannot talk your way out of this.
You think, "This feels so unfair. The gods always get to win. Now, I have to make time for fun."
Moral of the story:
Is it all really Mickey Mouse or have you met your quota for fun, today?
copyright 2008 by Adele Ryan McDowell
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