It’s not easy being a newborn baby and trying to communicate. A baby cries, smiles, lunges, lurches, bangs, and shrieks hoping to get across a message and receive a response from Mommy or Daddy. In the same way, an adult burns sage, sings hymns, prays, invokes and shouts…trying to communicate with the Divine.
Some of us are like difficult babies, whining and whimpering in our pursuit of revelation. And some of us are easier, finding Perfection in a warm blanket on a rainy Sunday, or a delicious plate of amatriciana when you’re mouthwatering hungry.
So here’s my question. What kind of baby are YOU?
–Happy-Go-Lucky Baby: you take life as it comes, usually smiling, happy for the warm day, the new face, the hot bath, the simple pleasures. Some common problems and how you respond: Your flight is canceled and you need to spend the night in O’Hare? You’ll just get work done. The Viagara doesn’t seem to be working anymore? Being the sweety that you are, you’ll keep things alive and well by giving the gift of Janeson Rayne’s innovative Magic Banana.
–Dirty Baby: you are ahead of the curve, walking at 6 months, talking at 9 months, mustache at 5 years old, hitting on 2nd grade teacher at 8 years old, virginity out the window at 12 years old. Your flight is canceled and you need to spend the night in O’Hare? Nothing phases you so long as you got a few blankets and the imagination. The Vigara doesn’t seem to be working anymore? Heck, who needs Viagara when you got a Marlboro 110, a slice of raw bacon covered in Tabasco, and a couple spritzes of One Man Show.
–Colic Baby: you have, shall we say, digestive issues and what some might call The Dirty Elves (see above pic) working overtime in your lowers. Your flight is canceled and you need to spend the night in O’Hare? You clear out the waiting area with a Starbucks Squealer. The Viagra doesn’t seem to be working anymore? Doesn’t matter. Nobody wants to date you anyway as every time you go on a date, you subject the other to the Pomodoro Punchout or the Chardonnay Cooker or worst of all, The Dried Apricot Annihilation.
Thinking back on the last few years, I realized my faith was virtually nonexistent. I worked, traveled, networked…but rarely prayed. I was like the guy at the gym with the giant upper body and tiny chicken legs…way out of balance. Without some way of letting go and establishing belief in something (anything) greater than one’s own self, our annoying vibration is no different and no less disgusting than a Burrito Butt Belch.
Might it be possible that one’s style and scent of Communication have the power to expedite a Response? George Bernard Shaw said, “Most people do not pray, they only beg.” And while on occasion you might acknowledge the outstretched hand of a beggar, you’d much more likely be lured to the sweet sage and song on the other side of the block.