I signed up to join Oprah’s gigantic book club.
It was the first time she offered an online class to accompany the book selection. I was curious about what was being the called “the largest book club in the world.”
And then reality happened.
I just couldn’t force myself into the chair to sit in front of the computer.
The class was broadcast at the time my husband arrives home from work and we have dinner.
It is a sacred time in our home. It was not a time to tunnel into a computer and drift into cyberspace with the largest book club on Earth.
On day one of Oprah’s class I looked at my husband and shut off the computer. I didn’t feel like I was missing anything.
I know the class has been touching many people; the book is everywhere. I see it poking out of purses, lying on car seats, parked on tables in coffee shops. I have my copy; I’ll read it as I get to it.
The next gigantic thing Oprah has done to again inspire millions is her new show, “The Big Give.”
Oprah, Queen of the Universe, now has: Dr. Phil twice a day, Oprah’s talk show twice a day, two monthly magazines, the largest book show class and now The Big Give.
I don’t think we have ever experienced anything like this. She is the ruler of the empire.
But a world filled with Oprah’s favorite things isn’t so bad. The other stuff that fills in the space is not so good. More insults on talk shows, more who wants to be the next Top Model, more Girls Next Door in Hef’s mansion?
The competition leaves you screaming for more Oprah.
All of the reality shows about competing to lose weight, making the prettiest clothing, designing the best house, giving to the neediest, winning the heart of the reluctant bachelor, or peering into the private lives of people who are starving for attention, are making me feel very concerned about us.
Is this sort of competition our modern day version of gladiators? Is some part of our psyche still in the arena taking pleasure in watching someone get crushed?
From “American Idol” to Donald Trump, we are pretending to be seeking the best, as we fall farther and farther away from any real sense of quality.
When my husband walked in the door from work and reminded me that the Oprah book club class was about to begin, he came over to my computer and helped establish the link — there were broadcast problems the first night and lots of people couldn’t connect.
I looked up at him and said, “This isn’t going to work for me.”
He stared at the computer screen. “Of course it will work.”
What I meant is that it wouldn’t work to give up the time with him, after work, for a class online with Oprah. The quality of my reality, my real actual life, would become diminished.
I’m worried that we are losing touch with the connection to the quality of our lives. That we are tuning in too much to something “out there” that isn’t real.
The only reality show is the one we are actually living.
Sarri Gilman is a freelance writer living on Whidbey Island. Her column on living with meaning and purpose runs every other Tuesday in The Herald. She is a therapist, a wife and a mother, and has founded two nonprofit organizations to serve homeless children. You can e-mail her at features@heraldnet.com.
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