Our Daily Bread

"Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our debts..." — Matthew 6:9-13

It's called The Lord's Prayer these days, but originally it was not a prayer at all, rather some simple instruction on how to pray. The core of the instruction is to ask for two things: enough to eat, and no debt. To the audience of poor, disenfranchised peasants under Roman oppression, eking out a living on land that was no longer their own, taxed into poverty, spirits broken, these no doubt were stirring words. Quite likely they were controversial and subversive words too. We can imagine the Roman commanders didn't want some rabble-rouser to raise consciousness about the appalling level of inequality across the empire, but would rather have people continue to just accept the status quo, and be quiet. Oh, the parallels we could draw with our corporate environments today! But I'll leave that exercise to you.

My interest in these words today is around the concepts of scarcity and abundance. We live (deeply immersed) in a system that constantly tells us we don't have enough, continually reminds us through advertising, marketing, and other more insidious methods that we are less than others if we don't have this kind of house, or that kind of car, or any number of new appliances, clothes, make-up or even bodies. More recently it has extended to commodities such as Happiness or Psychological Safety or Mindfulness or Spirituality or Leadership. We don't have those things. Other people have those things. We need those things! As a society we've become really good at selling (and buying!) vapid promises, as well as disposable goods, wrinkle-free faces, hairless chests, thigh gaps, and various bodily protrusions. We want to be better, richer, more beautiful, more spiritual. I'm reminded of a comment I once heard in a recovery meeting: "my drug of choice is more". I think that particular addict may have spoken for an entire society.

And I'm not immune. On this recent trip to London I bought a new Mac Book Air. It cost over £1,000. On arriving back at my hotel I saw a notice on the inside of the door of my room: Remember to ALWAYS lock your door, and NEVER leave valuables in the room. Capital letters and all. Fear took over. What should I do? Now I had to carry two computers with me wherever I went, in case villains broke into my room, or the hotel hired crooks as cleaners. But what if I then left my backpack in a cafe or somewhere by mistake? I'd lose both computers. Maybe I could hide it. But where. Under the bed? Too obvious. I think If I'd had a garden I'd have buried it, like the miser in Aesop's fable, or the rich man in the gospel of Matthew, storing up treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. I just wanted a new laptop, but to get one I also acquired fear, worry, panic... and on top of all that, guilt.

So I wonder, did I really need that new laptop? I now have double laptop portions, while others go hungry, and while not exactly debt, I have a deficit of £1,000 that perhaps have been used more wisely. I'm not advocating an ascetic or spartan lifestyle, but I am attracted to the idea of living minimally, owning little, not buying into all the nominalised nonsense but living more simply day by day. I have tax debt at the moment, and while it is not technically debt as there is no interest being charged (yet) it is money that I owe to HM government. I am striving to reduce that to zero, and then to pay tax as I go. And have one laptop. Bread for today and no debt. Now that sounds like an abundant life.

July News

July was marked by friendship and art. Our friends Alan, Vero and three-year-old León came to visit from Argentina, and stayed a few days. I've known Alan since 2006, when he posted a message to a discussion forum asking for someone to come and teach Scrum in Buenos Aires. We've been friends ever since, and now almost never talk about Scrum. We evolved.

And art, theatre, music... I went to the theatre twice, once alone to see the new David Mamet play, Bitter Wheat starring John Malkovich, and then with my sister, Juliette, to see a wonderful production of Noel Coward's Present Laughter at the Old Vic. Tonight my friend Ash and I are going to see The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole Aged 13¾, the musical! I think we are looking to recapture moments of our youth. I attended one of the beautiful concerts held regularly at St Martin-in-the-fields. This time it was Rachmaninov and Beethoven. And as I was staying close to Trafalgar Square I also spent some time at the National Gallery. Oh yeah, and I saw the new Leonard Cohen documentary, which was wonderful. Between all those things I worked.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Rayna has been painting walls, juggling children, cats and study, and enjoying a visit from our Dutch friend, Hannah who lived with us in California. She's one of Asrai's favorite people, and a dear friend to us all. I'm looking forward to going home on Friday

So, here's August. It's not the Roman emperor for whom the month was named that comes to mind when I consider this word. It is Neil Diamond. It is "Hot august night, and the leaves hanging down, and the grass on the ground smelling sweet 🎵". Rayna and I went to see Neil Diamond play in San Jose in the early days of our courtship, on, actually, a hot August night. Rayna sneaked a flask of whiskey in her sock, or something, sipping secretly in the dark. And I was sober in those days. We sang Sweet Caroline all the way home. I drove. Good times. Enjoy the sun...or the hot rain, whatever August throws at you.

Tobias


1st August 2019, 5 am