Exploring where life and story meet!

Thursday, July 25, 2019

Of freckles and fecklessness

We live in a social utopia where if something bugs you (your nose, your biological sex, your name...) you can pretty much change it and be happy, happy, happy...but if we are so happy, happy, happy, why are there record levels of suicide, depression, drug use, social unrest, loneliness and the like?  We're trying to update the interior by painting the outside of the house!  Ask any millionaire or famous person if they're happy because of their millions or fame, the answer will likely be a resounding no, if they're happy, it is for a whole other reason.  While that stuff is nice, it doesn't make us happy.  Neither does swapping out some physical defect or personal accessory, redefining 'your brand' doesn't do squat for your sense of purpose, confidence, or contentment.  So why do we think it does?  We don't, deep down but we like pinning our hopes on something that may never happen, even if it does, we'll then pin it on something else when the first attempt fails.  But why chase false hope?  It hurts less.  It's easier.  If we can pin our happiness and dreams on something else. it isn't our fault that it never happens and we don't have to go through any uncomfortableness in the process.

Anne (of Green Gables fame) spent far more time worrying about those seven freckles on her nose and her red hair rather than learning to curb her fiery temper or learning to appreciate the real people around her rather than idealizing characters who could never exist only to be disappointed with the real thing.  Elizabeth Bennet spent so much time laughing at the foibles of others that she completely overlooked her own.  It isn't a new problem, it's as old as humanity, modern culture has just given us more excuses and cultural support: if you are dissatisfied with life, there must be something wrong with life or those around you, it can't be a character defect.  Yep, character, that old fashioned word for who we are on the inside, who we are when nobody is looking, the part of us that has nothing to do with culture, race, sex, occupation, socioeconomic level...  The part of us we can change, if we want to, the part of us that really matters, the part of us that determines our level of happiness, contentment, and meaning.  But we'd rather take a pill or have surgery or do yoga or not eat certain things, it's easier that way.  Easier yes, but futile.  Like trying to reach the summit of a mountain by camping at the base and complaining about the weather or your arthritis or the price of rope.  You may feel like you're being productive or making progress, but unless you actually make the attempt, you might as well have stayed home.

The local school district told my cousin's daughter that her alphabet soup of mental and emotional and social disorders lay at the feet of her hidden transgenderism, not in the broken home, the lack of any family support, structure, and encouragement, the indifference of all who should love and care for her.  Her 'coming out' hasn't done anything for her other problems, except maybe made her even more confused, did I mention she's 12?  Let's put a band-aid on a severed leg!  You can't treat the mind/soul/heart/spirit of a person by focusing on the physical and material aspects, you have to treat the whole person, but you can't do that if you think we are merely chunks of flesh, born only to die.  But no one save the hardest core atheistic humanists believes that, and I wonder if they even believe it at 3 in the morning, alone in the dark?  We were made for so much more, but the growth and shaping is painful, it's hard, it hurts, and we, as a species, tend to be averse to pain and hard work.  But would we rather sit at the base of the mountain and fuss or ascend the peak we came to climb?

You can't be happy moldering, festering, rotting as you are.  Like a fertile egg, as C.S. Lewis said, "you must either hatch or go bad."  We have all sorts of handy modern excuses and the support of the entire culture to simply rot, if not get worse, but we'll never be happy, content, or fulfilled that way.  The only option is to grow, to change, to improve, to grow daily more like the One who made us.  It isn't easy, it isn't quick, it isn't painless, but it is the only way.  Our culture says 'all roads lead to all destinations' but just try that with your gps sometime; if you are trying to get to a certain place in a certain amount of time, you take the most efficient path, not cut across country, certain that this or any detour will get you there just as quick, how much more so in our lives?  Both Miss Anne and Miss Elizabeth did eventually find their joy, but it was not painless or easy, and it was not without addressing their personal flaws in the interim.  Will we do the same, or merely sit in base camp complaining about our lot our entire lives?

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