Don't despair even over the fact that you do not despair - Franz Kafka
I have had my share of encounters with evangelists. Spooky uncomfortable ones, hilariously silly ones, engrossingly earnest ones. But there was one which got me thinking. It was in LA in the street where the Kodak theatre is. Christmas time shops decked, its all sale mood. There is Scientology church there and there were bunch of relatively young guys sitting with some tomes of Ron Hubbard spread on a table. They had a contraption that measured the pulse as we answered questions.
As I was chronically jobless that evening I thought I'd give the guy a chance. He was asking a bunch of questions in the general direction of :"what are you missing in your life ?", what do you think you have it in you to reach out to but can't, how do you feel about living a life of non-greatness etc. While I understood the direction was to finally sell "the book would fill the hole in your life", I tried to answer quite earnestly.
I finally came across as a unambitious sod with unreal levels of contentment. He smiled and let me go. He had nothing to sell to me and probably thought I was pulling his leg.
Normally this would prompt me to talk about how being surrounded by the spirit of the Christmashopping frenzy, in the city of the great and how spirituality was also being sold with a material flavour to it. There is a shortstory in there somewhere, atleast a rhymeless poem. Or wose still may have even gotten into comparing and contrasting Oriental spirituality and American decadence etc.
But for the first and last time an evangelical encounter made me go into an uncomfortable instrospection: what the deuce am I so satisfied about !