Good for Nothing

Sullied woman on virgin prairie.

Several years ago, it seems every church in town was offering workshops based on Rick Warren's book "The Purpose-Driven Life."  I don't hear much about the book anymore, although it's pretty obvious that lots of folks are living purpose-driven lives.

Those folks just don't happen to include me.

That photo of me on the left?  I'm laying on virgin prairie in central Nebraska, doing pretty much nothing but enjoying myself.  The photo sums up my typical summer motto: Be good for nothing.  I am thinking of offering workshops at area churches, in which I'd teach people how to be a little more purposeless, how to do a little more nothing.

No, really.

 I think there is something to be said for doing something--or nothing--just because you want to do something, or nothing.  To be honest,  I'm a little leery of people whose every move seems purpose-driven.  The thing about requiring purpose before action is that it infuses every action with an ulterior motive, which feels a little manipulative to me.  And all that purpose power can take away the magic of a moment.  I doubt Warren's book has a chapter called "The Joy of Serendipity."

Mmmm!  Cold beer!

This photo is of the inside of the old Coke machine that we keep in the basement.  Once a year, I fill it with good beer and invite East High staff to come over and have a cold one.  I even provide the dimes!  So much for any ulterior motive of making back my money!  From a purpose-driven perspective, I suppose you could say I offer the free beer as a way of making friends or showing off that I found this machine for only a hundred bucks.  But, really, I just offer the bubbles so that we can get together and have a little fun.  Because it's really intense, working in a school.

Today is the first official day of my summer. and I just got back from my third walk.  Finn's happy about me being in "summer" mode.  That's because he lives a purpose-driven life and has ulterior motives, like extra walks and maybe a bonus treat or two.  But I still love him, despite his goal-laden personality.  I try to see beyond his Type A tendencies, recognizing that he also is a good companion when I am lollygagging on the hammock, or exploring a new trail, or bending down to figure out what all the hubbub is with the ants on our sidewalk.

I think--deep down--Finn knows that a good-for-nothing, goal-free life can be a magical thing, like seeing a deer run across the neighbor's lawn in the middle of the morning.  Had we had our noses to the proverbial grindstone, concerned about nothing more than getting in our steps or increasing our heart rates, we might have missed that strange, wonderful moment when the deer leapt the cemetery fence, joining the Catholic dead and then just disappearing.

I'm not above seeing the irony in this blog entry.  On a certain level, this entry may in fact be purpose-driven.  By writing it, I could hope to cast a positive light on my do-nothing life.   Think what you will.  I can't be bothered with mind reading.  I feel a nap coming on. . . .