My entourage

I have been chewing on an idea lately. Processing the thought of what each of our personal burdens looks like. Feels like. Carries like. When we pass on the street or in church and ask “How are you doing?”

“Fine.” *blink, blink*

What if there was someway to shake up reality so that you carried the burdens of your heart in the form of a visible group of people. Your own personal posse.

“How are y’all doing?”

“Well. Let me introduce you to my crew. Here’s my cousin who’s fighting cancer. This is my best friend, she’s got kind of a crazy work situation going on. Over there is my family, and you can see the little herd of family issues hanging on around there. Oh, and that’s my daughter, who’s decided that screaming fits are the newest thing and that parental compliance is completely optional… Uncle Verne, who’s decided that we all don’t exist. And back there in the corner, that’s the embodiment my own self-discovery and self-purpose struggles. Wave, sweetie!”

I wonder if anyone would be “fine” anymore.

Would we hide more, knowing that all those weights we carry around are suddenly uber-visible? Would we be more brash, more real, knowing that there’s no way to fake it, so you may as well just own up to what you’re carrying? Would those carrying less feel obligated to carry more? Would those carrying more suddenly feel as though they’ve been put upon? Would the drama types suddenly quell their drama?

Picture it:
Drama type: You don’t underSTAND. My life is so HARD. I have TWO problems in my entourage!! Like, TWO! One, two!! How can you even THINK that I could, like, even CONSIDER doing ANYthing other than having a CRISIS over my PROBLEMS.

Non-drama type: Yeah. (looking over shoulder at her entourage of twenty) I can see that.

Drama type: (Noticing larger entourage of other person) Oh.

Side Note: Deep thoughts, sarcasm, dry, witty humor, mild irreverence. You’ve been warned. It’s part of the package deal, here.

Try the idea on. It’s a fun one to play with.

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