Wanted: One Demiurge

Look It Up. You'll Want One Too

Wanted: One Demiurge

I want a demiurge — Greek for a subordinate god who shapes and arranges the physical world to conform to some rational and ideal shape.

Now, I’m not trying to get all philosophical on you. Believe me. I don’t know my Plato from a plate of pasta fagioli, but I desperately need someone to bring order to my disorderly universe, and well, if it was good for the Greeks, then it sounds good to me.

Demiurge Requirements

My requirements are simple. I’m seeking a cross between a (gentle) drill sergeant, personal trainer, motivational speaker, beauty consultant, pep talker supreme, household manager, and gal pal.

The reasons I need a demiurge are many. The recent move to a new city and house. So much to do. So little time. And almost-older alert!!! Now that I’m “a little” older, I don’t move as fast as I used to! I’d welcome having a helper run to the hardware store and navigated the confounding aisles of nuts and bolts. That kind of errand makes me go nuts and want to bolt!

And in terms of my 9-5 job of creative scribbling, I won’t mind a little help. Some days I could use a “muse” to kick-start my musings!

Demiurge Duties

“My” demiurge’s duties would include:

  • Nudging me out of bed early (but not too early) each morning.
  • Offering a daily affirmation and a healthy green (but yummy tasting) smoothie.
  • Encouraging/nudging/pushing me out the door for a brisk (but not breathless or sweat inducing) walk around the neighborhood, while simultaneously encouraging me about my goals for the day, and, of course, suggesting what chic outfit(s) I’ll wear while achieving them.

And That’s Not All

Once home, all aglow, I’ll promptly sit down at my desk with no dilly dallying around, secure in the knowledge that my demiurge is on the job, making the bed, doing the dishes, taking out the trash — in short, attending to all the tasks I normally do as stall tactics to avoid sitting down at the computer and writing!

And then, when writer’s block strikes, my demiurge really earns his/her pay — ha! as if Greek philosophical subordinate gods get paid! (Who do they think they are? Liberated interns living in this modern, enlightened 21st Century? Of course, not. After all, they are philosophical constructs dating backing to 360 BC for Heaven’s sake, brought back to life in my daydream and this blog!)

Demi’s Great

Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes, writer’s block. When I get stuck, my dear “Demi” would offer a soothing word, perhaps a second soothing smoothie, a back rub, and a kind, “You go girl. You’ve got this.”

And if that failed, Demi and I would head out of the house — guilt-free — for lunch and a little retail therapy, which we in the writing biz prefer to call (and this is a state-of-the-art term I’m sharing with you, free of charge) “work safaris to gather writing material.”

Anyway, my Demi would be grand to shop with, I mean gather writing material with. He/she would never suggest I look fat or old or tired in anything I try on or any lipstick shade I sample (even black-ish purple). He/she never judges cost, instead offering an encouraging, “Buy, buy, buy. Gather, gather, gather.” Demi clearly recognizes that today’s fashion mistake is tomorrow’s return trip to the mall AND future blog article!

Demi at Dinner

Back at home, where it’s often close to dinner time, Demi is again judgement-free, never counting the hours wasted or the words not written. Instead, Demi is happy to sort through the take-out menus, quick to recall which restaurants haven’t been on “too frequent” speed dial in the past two weeks, and all too happy to place the order for Handsome Hubby and me.

Yes, my demiurge is a real saint. But that, of course, is not possible. Saints are religious figures, and demiurges are philosophical constructs. Still a world — my world — with a demiurge would be so fine.

Now, if only I could figure out how to find one. Heaven knows — make that, Plato knows — it was hard enough learning to spell the word demiurge for this blog! Finding one would surely be impossible.

Still, a muddled middled-aged inefficient blogger can dream, right? And if I cannot find a demiurge, maybe I can re-ignite distant dreams of being Queen for a Day!

0 replies

Leave a Reply

Want to join the discussion?
Feel free to contribute!

Leave a Reply