I am tired of loving others. It is exhausting.
I am tired of "love thy neighbor."
I am tired of "these three: faith, hope and love, but the greatest of these is love."
What about me? What about a little me-love?
When I imagine me-love, I imagine a place that is all about me. This place would start with a chair, perfectly molded to my body. A chair so me-oriented that it adjusts and lumbar supports. I could sit in my me-chair for hours on end in perfect comfort.
My me-love-chair would come with remotes. But these remotes would never get lost (that pisses me off). I would not even have to lean forward to grab these remotes off the coffee table. In my me-chair, the remotes would all be built-in. I would never have to move.
In my me-chair, everything around would be all about me. The stereo system would be programmed to all my me-songs and me-stations. The surround of speakers would all be modulated and pointed directly at me.
In my me-chair I could control access. My remotes would include the ability to lock the door, so I could keep others out or allow them access to my me-space. Not just anyone should be allowed to a space about me.
My me-chair of course is climate controlled, but it is more than just temperature. Any space can have a thermostat. No, in my me-space I would be able to control more than the temperature. I would also have God-like powers to control the very weather. I could summon the wind with the push of a button. My me-chair is so powerful I can summon the sun to shine on my head. Now that is quite a trick.
It would not be enough to merely control comfort, entertainment, access and climate … my me-chair would also have to control space and distance. I can fix that. To my me-chair, I will attach four wheels, a drive train, engine and gas tank, so I can take my me-chair wherever I want to go.
My me-chair of course is also known as a "car."
It is an amazing invention that is all about me.
All about me
Who do all these other people think that they are? How can they possibly do what they do?
It is no wonder that I get so upset when the others, those outside my me-space, don't give me the me-love. Don't those folks realize that this space is all about me? The chair says it is all about me. The stereo sings it is all about me. The power windows, the sunroof, the cup holders; they are all about me. The climate controls say it is all about me. Even the steering wheel submits to my every desire.
So why don't these other fools act the same way? They have an agenda that is not about me. They cut me off. They drive the wrong speed. They get in my way. They live in violent dissonance to my perfect me-space.
Inside it is all about me.
Outside it is about, what? Someone else. That just can't be. So what do I do? I lash out when the me-bubble is prodded, just like a me-addict does. I scream the very me-thoughts I feel inside. I use me-fueled gestures to express my me-dissonance, to show my me-anger.
After all, I deserve this me-place that is all about me. When will these others start to realize that?
Morphing my identity
There is one more secret that I want to share. It is a magical secret, almost never spoken about. There is an even greater power in my me-love me-space. It has the power to transform. What does it transform? Well, ME, of course. You will not find this power in any manual or handbook. They do not advertise it on the dealership website. But it is the most powerful perk.
My car is also an Identity Transmorpher. That's right! It can transform my identity to be whatever I want to project. You don't believe it is so? Let me show you how it works.
Let's say that I go to church in another neighborhood. Before I arrive, I want to transmorph into a certain type of person. The solution is simple. I climb inside my transmorphing machine and let it do its magic. As the streets and intersections and strip-malls fly by, my transmorpher does its transmorphing work.
By the time I arrive at the church doors, I have become exactly what I want these people to see. I am all "Hey Brother" and "God bless you" and "How do you do?" And the brilliance is that, thanks to the transmorpher's magic, these people know no different. How could they? They don't see me at work. They've never heard me yell at my kids on a Saturday afternoon. They don't see me at the sports bar on Monday night. They don't know how I spend my money, manipulate my family, or my web-browser history. These are not my neighbors. They are far away, nowhere near my everyday life.
For all they know, I am always "Hey Brother" and "God bless you" and "How do you do?"
Walking to church could never do what the transmorpher does.
That is the ultimate power of the me-centered transmorphing machine.
It is all about me.
Tony Kriz is a writer and church leader from Portland, Oregon, and Author in Residence at Warner Pacific College.
