Spirituality to Medium to Amway, and Back
If You’re Selling, I’m Not Buying — But Thanks for the Connection!
“I’d rather trust a man who doesn’t shout what he’s found
“There’s no need to sell when you’re homeward-bound
“If I take a side
“He won’t take me for a ride”
Peter Gabriel, from The Chamber of 32 Doors, from the album A Lamb Lies Down on Broadway
What Is Spirituality, Really?
What a lot of people don’t seem to realize about spirituality is, it’s all about tuning into your own spirit. You don’t have to buy a bunch of dogma about the right or the wrong way to do it, or about some pie-in-the-sky philosophy dressed up in books and called a religion. No — not at all. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, for those for whom it works. I’m not dogging religion, here. It works for millions. God bless it!
But, for those of us who just didn’t get it, in the religion of their upbringing, didn’t make that connection, that link to their own true spirit, I found that you don’t need all that to make this vital connection. All you have to do is tune in and listen.
I, like most people I know, don’t find this all that easy. I have to work at it, practice every day. It’s so easy to get distracted by everything out there in this thing we call life. What’s even more distracting is all the noise in your own head. If you’re like me, there’s a lot of it. See, give me a little bit of information, a smidgeon of a grasp of some minor philosophical concept, and, in my mind, I’ve become an expert, and want to tell you all about it.
Medium Gurus
You might have noticed, there’s lots of these “gurus” right here on Medium. (“NO! Really? I hadn’t noticed.”) Yes, really. Just scrolling through all the posts on the daily feed in Medium Masters, I would venture to say that 50 to 75% of the articles posted have titles telling me how to do this better, how to achieve this result, how to sell my stories, how to write better, blah, blah, blah.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that. But for me, I’m not here for all of that. I’m just here to tell stories from my own experience, to share them with anyone who might resonate with them, and to read stories from those of you who have great stories to tell from your own experience. To support you as a fellow storyteller, and give you 50 claps for a story well-told. Period. I have my own things I read for all of that other stuff.
I get it — it’s the money factor. You dangle this idea of making a living doing this, and everyone wants a piece of that pie. Why not? If my circumstances were different, I’d be right there with you. I’m not judging. I get it.
Primerica, Amway, and Damn Yankees
When I was younger, I tried selling Primerica for extra cash. I even had a guy on my first ship who almost got me to start selling Amway products. I listened to his pitch, only because he’d (sort of) friended me. (Not like “Facebook friended”, this was about 20 years before Al Gore invented the internet).
Basically, he took the time to talk to me. At that point, about a month into my time on that ship, he was one of the few. I’d walked on there branded by several things. One, I was a Yankee — a damned Yankee. By that I mean, I was from north of the Mason-Dixon Line. Of 220 sailors on that ship, I think there were three of us Yankees, the rest were all good ol’ boys from the South. I’d never experienced southern culture before that ship — never been immersed in it, like I was there. Here, I’d thought the Civil War had ended 108 years earlier (this was 1973). You never would have known it, by the way I got treated by those good ol’ boys.
Actually, that’s not fair. It was more my misunderstanding, misreading the culture than anything they did to me. I wore my Yankee-ness on my sleeve, and so was easy bait for them to attack me, and they did. I eventually learned to just keep my Yankee mouth shut, but by then, it was too late. I was branded, and was a pariah. I should also mention that I was an obnoxious, opinionated drunk, to boot. That didn’t help matters much, either.
I Was a Real Nuke Puke
Strike 3 against me was, I was a Nuke Puke. That meant I was only on that ship for less than a year, then headed to Naval Nuclear Power School, where I’d spend the next year learning all about Reactor Theory, Nuclear Principles, and earn enough credits to be halfway to a degree in Nuclear Physics. I’d also been given rapid advancement in rank, becoming an E-3 upon Boot Camp graduation, and an E-4 (3rd Class Petty Officer) three months later upon graduation from Machinist Mate A School.
They really hated us Nuke Pukes. There were fellows in my engine room who’d busted their balls in that hot, steaming, cooped-up cauldron of misery for 3 or 4 years, and had only achieved an E-3, the really sharp ones had an E-4. I strolled in there wearing that Petty Officer chevron on my sleeve, never having stepped foot on a ship before that, fresh out of Boot Camp and A School, full of crap and bad ideas.
No wonder they hated me. I would have hated me, had the roles been reversed. But this guy, he saw an opportunity for a recruit in the Amway pyramid scheme. He was no dummy. But, even that I couldn’t abide. Much as I needed a friend, I didn’t need one that badly.
Authentic Storytellers
I have no idea how I went from Medium to Amway, other than, I see a connection. A way to earn money a different way than the traditional way. I was so starved for writing companionship and fellowship, I almost got sucked in to it, anyway. Luckily, I’ve managed to find some genuine, authentic storytellers here, who are not trying to sell me anything — they’re just here doing what I’m doing. Looking for a connection. Finding like-minded souls. I’m glad I’ve found them. Glad they’ve found me. You know who you are. Thanks!
