Confessions of a Dyed-in-the-Wool Capitalist
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by Julia Collins
I came to Shalem as a volunteer nearly a year ago. My motives were selfish. As a newborn's mother suffering from post-partum, I needed to get out of the house. Initially alphabetizing was a challenge, but soon I was up to copying, collating and the computer. I enjoy the rhythm of the work--the repetitive task which adds up to a complete project with results I can see. I like absolutes. But working at Shalem has confirmed my suspicion that there is more to work than work.My husband and I own a house-painting business. Started from an old VW bus and just us, we now own three vehicles and employ seven painters. The business is very straightforward capitalism -- get the job; complete the job; get the check. Payroll, taxes, insurance, supplies, etc., direct most of the decisions in our business and our personal lives. As long as we make money, we easily lead ourselves to believe we control every aspect of our business.
But the bottom line at Shalem is spaciousness. Not personal space, which is what I thought when I first heard the phrase, but making room for God, inviting God's participation in daily work activity, allowing events to unfold, making Spirit-led decisions.
At first I was intimidated being surrounded by "spiritual professionals." It's a powerful thing to witness a group of people at work choosing God as a priority. Still, deep in my capitalist heart, I have the feeling if we could forget about God, things would be more productive. In those moments, I have no qualms about choosing productivity over God. This is not the kind of spiritual discovery I planned on making about myself.
Shalem recently started a new office policy. At 10 AM, 2 PM and 4 PM, a bell is rung for prayer. At first I tried ten minutes of silence. For the first four or five minutes, I looked at my desk, deciding what to do next. I spent a good 30 seconds, maybe even 60 seconds, being mindful of God's presence. I spent the last few minutes thinking about having a cigarette. Now I light a candle when the bell rings and ask God to help me be mindful during work.
Growing up we had a prayer plaque over our kitchen sink. It started, "O Lord of pots and pans and things." I forget the rest. My grandmother had it memorized. When I tried to convince her of the wisdom of air drying over towel drying, she would recite, "O Lord of pots and pans and things." All work should be done with a mindfulness of God. I'm still mindful of God when I do my dishes; now I try to be mindful stuffing envelopes, applying postage. But I'm not very mindful answering phones. Any task no matter the size can be an opportunity for mindfulness. It's a very relaxing way to work. More importantly to me as a capitalist, living in the present moment is a surprisingly efficient method of work. (You see, I can corrupt even mindfulness.)
Within my overriding sense of God's "allness," I have a grasping desire to consume this allness personally. I delight at each insight, not for its own sake or for the deepening of my relationship with God, but for the increase in my spiritual assets.
But I wonder if God gets bored waiting for us. I try to remember how much there is to life beyond goals and visible products to keep God from getting bored. I pray to step back from myself, step forward towards the wonder of life, and allow God to surround and infuse my life with allness.
Julia, mother of 15-month-old Maria, and a much-valued volunteer at Shalem, continues to copy, collate, work on the computer and still sometimes answers the phone!
© 2008 The Shalem Institute.