Garfield got me thinking…

I love the comic strip Garfield. For those who may somehow be unfamiliar with Garfield, he is, literally, a fat cat who gets into all kinds of mischief and who is, as one might imagine a cat to be, completely and delightfully irreverent.

Here is a description of one of my favorites: The strip was in three frames. (As Sophia from “Golden Girls” would say: “Picture it!”)

First frame: Garfield is sitting in a sofa chair directly in front of the TV. A caption bubble coming from the TV says: “I love hosting this show…”

Second frame: Same setting. TV bubble says: “Absolutely love it!”

Third & last frame: TV bubble: “It means I don’t have to watch it!”

Caption bubble above Garfield shows he is thinking: “I wish I hosted it.”

Our take on it, of course, is that Garfield agrees with the host, that he, too, would rather be hosting than watching what, apparently, seems to be neither a funny nor interesting show.  

What it brought up for me, however, was this question: How many of us host our own lives? How many of us merely watch it from some out-of-body—out-of-mind perspective, as mere observers?

And to what kind of show would we liken our lives anyway? A little more convoluted than Barbara Walters asking, “If you were a tree, what kind of tree would be?”  A question which Ms. Walters claims she never directly asked anyone, but I wish someone would answer that question one day with: “The kind of tree on which dogs are not inspired to release themselves.” In a more serious vein, I would answer: “One that bears magical fruit, produces lovely flowers, and provides some shade.”

But I digress…back to my Garfield-inspired premise: If your life were a TV show, what kind of TV show would it be? A drama…. a serial killer of dreams on the rampage? A soap opera? One calamity after another? A Lifetime movie, more prone to induce tears than laughter? Would you say it would be a sit-com where laughter is sometimes canned, sometimes real, or is it just a comedy—of errors?

Perhaps your life is more like a game show? If so, are you the host, the one who asks all the questions, the one who likes to be in charge, but never participates? Or are you the on-edge contestant, always trying to figure out the way to play the game, always hoping you come up with the right answer in time, always suspecting the other contestants somehow have an advantage, that maybe someone fed them the answers? Perhaps you are, instead, the confident contestant, sure of the way the game is played, sure of your responses? Or are you just someone in the audience, getting vicarious thrills and chills, afraid to play the game for fear you’d make a fool of yourself?

Or…dare I ask it, is your life more like a reality show? A Reality show? How’s that for a misnomer? The only thing real about them is that they are cheap to produce. No actors to pay, no script writers to pay because there is no script, per se, just some banal, repeated lines for not-so-clever hosts to say while introducing stunts. Of course, for our purposes, you might want to think of God as the host, (Let’s give a hand to the Host more clever than most!), and Your Life,  as The Reality Show. The events of your life would be the stunts God sets up for you, or that you co-created with God while still on the other side; that is, if you believe that’s the way the universe works.

What kind of TV show would my life be? Thanks for asking. (You did ask, didn’t you?) My life would not be a TV show as much as a movie, for wide release, of course, (no pun on my weight intended. Yeah, right). It would be part fantasy, part science non-fiction, starring a woman who is on the verge of discovering, or remembering, who she really is: a spiritual being having an earthly experience. It would be more of psychological filler than action thriller because most of what goes on would be underneath the surface. The events of my life would be played out as a combination of drama, comedy, and game show (as I’m always asking and posing questions), with a little bit country…a little bit rock and roll…(Hey, how did Donny and Marie Osmond get in here?). And there would be the perfunctory soap opera scene or two. (Come on, how can I be Sicilian and not have some melodrama in my life?) The second half of the movie would follow a final Aha moment, where I would get it. I would truly get it—namely, that thought really is creative, and that all I have to do to manifest anything I desire is to think it, see it  happening without a shadow of a doubt, (therein lies the rub), and know that it already exists on some plane of existence, and Poof….it would come into being.

Well, not quite Poof–not yet. Initially, it would come into being via earth-time manifestations; you know, making the right connections, showing up at the right time in the right place, but soon enough, the thing would simply manifest instantaneously, as if I had been transported to a time in the future when I would have already taken the steps to create it. Ultimately, having everything I desire, I might, of course, decide GAME OVER, choosing to move on to the next level and transition out of this existence, or I might choose to appear as though I haven’t yet gotten it, and linger on earth a while longer in order to teach others what I have learned. Hmmm…..could it be that’s what I’m doing now and don’t know it yet? Perhaps that’s what we’re all doing. God, do we operate in some pretty spectacular disguises or what?


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