I don’t think this is a 3am idea. I think this is a 6am idea…but it’s now past 7pm, so it may share all the liabilities of 3am ideas. Plus I didn’t actually wake-wake up until 7:40am today (hurray!), and perhaps idea-liabilities are accrued if there’s any unconsciousness between idea and execution. Wait, that doesn’t hold up, because I get good, executable ideas during acupuncture. Oh well, don’t care today, never mind:
potential liabilities and all, I’m forging ahead.
LEGOs. Our skills, abilities, gifts, relationships and opportunities are all LEGOs. We snap them together in varying ways, where they stay stuck until we pop them apart somehow–maybe on purpose, maybe because the structure falls off the table of life and hits the floor on a corner.
There are LEGOs that don’t fit in the structure, but it’s our set, so we keep them around. Maybe we try to snap them on the main structure; maybe we build a little side structure. But we don’t throw them away, because no one throws out LEGOs. You never know when you’re going to need that red one-layer four-dot brick.
Come to think on it, how did we end up with our individual LEGO sets? What if God’s the master builder in Beyond-Us-All (there’s a sort of precedent for this!), and issues us our starter sets, plus expansion kits along and along.
So maybe you got a Carbon Freezing Chamber set. But you didn’t get the diagram, the one with the parts inventory and the non-language-specific instructions. All those grey bricks… and what about the orange ones? What’re you supposed to do with those?
Or did you get the non-language-specific instructions…but one panel–no, one partial panel–at a time? Maybe they don’t even come in order, since some of those sub-structures can be built as components, then popped together.
How much does it matter whether you build what’s in the source diagram, anyway? Carbon Freezing Chamber for a few years, then it’s a modernist home where Boba Fett and Han Solo set up housekeeping, and Lando’s majordomo (I don’t know their name) visits once a month to help with repairs. It could work, could even be a move toward intergalactic peace-!
Does it matter whether we try to use all our bricks in the same structure? Or is it OK to have left-overs, but we’ll feel odd about it despite knowing it’s OK?
This is the sort of conceit that often lands me in a poem. But the LEGOs didn’t want to be in a poem–too squared-off, perhaps?
Besides, I needed to build a blog-post.