When the Menu is Manna

                             I feel hypocritical in writing this because, at this time, I have at least ten sticky notes of various colors and possibly even shapes on my desk. A few checklists are also available. Some are written on the backs of envelopes, on leftover copies, and some, in desperation, are placed on a leftover fast-food napkin or superstore receipt. Each one reminds me of a task that needs my "immediate attention. As I survey the vast array of colorful, well-meaning notes that will guide my every moment if I allow them to, I feel somewhat overwhelmed. Call this person ASAP - as if the world will stop turning if I don't. Look into this… type this, send this, organize this, respond to this. Where did I learn to be driven by checklists?  This condition may have materialized as a youth. My roots as a child were definitely biblically conservative. As early as eight years old, I received a little ...

“Come on, you know you want to do it.” “Um… I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Looks dangerous!”  “No way. It’s easy!”  “I really don’t think I should. I just don’t see the purpose in it.” “Really? Everyone is doing it! It’s the most.  You can get a lot of friends by doing this!” “Guaranteed acceptance.” “Hmmm. I’m not sure… I guess I could do it. You know, just one time to get me into the group. Right?” “Yeah, this will surely do it!”  “Well, okay… Here goes…”  I watched as the skeptic joined the others by placing a large plastic bucket over his head. It covered his entire face and neck, blocking his view of anything in the conference room. The skit team, otherwise known as “The Bucket Heads,” then spent the next few minutes wandering around the room, bumping into the furnishings, the audience, and each other as they tried to make it out of the cluttered room with minimal injury.  Throughout the room, the audience’s laughter rippled as they watched these “de...