Contemplating the Curse...

"Cursed is the ground because of you;
through painful toil you will eat of it
all the days of your life.

18 It will produce thorns and thistles for you,
and you will eat the plants of the field.

19 By the sweat of your brow
you will eat your food
until you return to the ground,
since from it you were taken;
for dust you are
and to dust you will return."

I come from a long line of farmers. Some skilled tradesmen, here and there, but for the most part, hardworking, leatherskinned, swollenjointed farmers. People who, whether they put stock in the Bible or not, lived out and understood well the 'curse' handed down in Genesis. There are still many millions who do. I've begun to question whether I am among them lately. You see, I don't till the soil, nor do I wash the dirt from the harvest with the sweat of my brow before it gets boiled and plated at my table. But I do work. A lot. I've always tried to keep myself busy, as a farmer might, from morning until evening. I've always had to work to bring in the harvest, only mine came processed from the supermarket, or emerged sizzling from the grills and grease vats of the local fast foodaurant.
Interesting side note. Entymology of the word 'restaurant': 1827, from the French for "food that restores". The prefix 'rest-' got me thinking. I want someone to open the 'Bestaurant'. Maybe next year...

Anyway, work. I work for a corporation in a Sales capacity. On one hand, it feels like the furthest thing from 'working the earth' as there can be. It's all about people getting fat sitting in cubicles with money being thrown around like confetti falling on some endless parade (rarely in my direction, mind you, but I see it on the wind now and again). It's all about old men spending their lives in the office while younger women raise their children, clean their homes, answer their calls. I have come to despise the culture here, and to despise the person it has helped me to become while here. As a result, it has become very stressful, & feels like dying a little every time I come in. I see my body changing, ticks developing. My mood is perpetually raw, and the coffee mug that once sat half empty on my desk is now brimming over with negativity. The more I think about it, the more I wonder if this is the corporate version of the Curse. There is no dirt here, but I still feel dirty. There is no sweat pouring from my brow, but a storm cloud sits there now from morning to night. My plow and thresher are a hard drive and an office cart. And from within all the dichotomies here, there arises one common denominator: Knowledge.
It was knowledge that brought with it the curse for Adam. He chewed through the veneer of perfection and awoke to the innate fallibility of created things that are allowed to fend for themselves. It is the knowledge that my boss passes on to us regarding the way decisions are made around here, of the general unethical practices constantly employed, which is burdening me almost beyond what I can bear. With much knowledge comes much sorrow. I think that's from King Solomon. He would know. He had the best seat in the house for awhile, CEO of Holy Land Enterprises. I wonder if his message takers had our contempt?
Anyway, I'm an American and a man, and being such, I fix things. So, I anticipate a fix shortly...