Our neighborhood is a box. It limits us in certain ways, closes us off to a bunch of options, imprisons us. A marriage is a box and so is a family. Being a boyfriend is a box and the church is one too, maybe the most oppressive of them all. A factory is a box. The suburbs—maybe you don’t know what a suburb is—but they are boxes too. Hell, all of America is one. Boxes aren’t good things. They keep us from fulfilling our potential, from exploring fully the world and ourselves.
ENLIGHTENMENT CIRCA 1962 BY JOHN HEARN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 25
As we strolled back to the tracks, Doc asked if I was beginning to see a relationship between work and happiness.
“What do you mean?”
“Are people who have jobs happier than those who don’t?”
“Ummm…I’m not sure.”
“What about those factory workers who pelted us with rocks? Do you think they were happy?”
“Maybe not.”
“What about Walter, when his job was reduced to doing the same thing, again and again, every 10 seconds? Do you think that made Walter happy?…