Meditations
I've been thinking a lot about some of the phrases that people throw out without really thinking about them. You may be able to tell, from the last post, that "life is short" has been one of them.
Have you noticed that the people who tell you -- and themselves -- that life is short are never the people for whom life is short? It's never the people whose lives are cut short by poverty, hunger, disease, lack of medical care, or injury, that tell you life is short. But people who will probably live well into their 80s and beyond throw it around all the time. Most of them will outlive their own health, their own usefulness.
Life is not short for most of us. But the claim is a way to give oneself permission to do what one otherwise might not, or to avoid responsibility one otherwise might accept. Whether it's dessert or an affair, we make excuses for our self-indulgence, our hedonism.
I'm not trying to suggest that we look for unpleasantness, when a pleasant choice presents itself. But the attitude of "life is short" speaks to me of our culture's invalidation of a wealth of human experience. Life is too short to be disciplined, too short to be unhappy, too short to be anxious. But real life, adult life, demands discipline, and brings us unhappiness and anxiety.
In our do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do world, we tell people that emotions are neither good nor bad, they just are. We say that what you feel is what you feel, and that it should be validated. But we identify some emotions -- anger, anxiety, fear, grief -- as negative, and in reality, we hide from them, invalidate them. Are you sad? Cheer up! Angry? Get over it! Worried? Chill out! Life's too short.
Is life too short to sit by a loved one's hospital bed and wonder whether he'll recover?
Is life too short to mourn the loss of a loved one or the loss of love?
Is life too short to fear unemployment, or foreclosure, or illness?
Is life too short to ache when your child hurts?
One of the things I've always firmly believed in my classroom is that discomfort precedes growth. I worry for a culture that isn't willing be uncomfortable.
Have you noticed that the people who tell you -- and themselves -- that life is short are never the people for whom life is short? It's never the people whose lives are cut short by poverty, hunger, disease, lack of medical care, or injury, that tell you life is short. But people who will probably live well into their 80s and beyond throw it around all the time. Most of them will outlive their own health, their own usefulness.
Life is not short for most of us. But the claim is a way to give oneself permission to do what one otherwise might not, or to avoid responsibility one otherwise might accept. Whether it's dessert or an affair, we make excuses for our self-indulgence, our hedonism.
I'm not trying to suggest that we look for unpleasantness, when a pleasant choice presents itself. But the attitude of "life is short" speaks to me of our culture's invalidation of a wealth of human experience. Life is too short to be disciplined, too short to be unhappy, too short to be anxious. But real life, adult life, demands discipline, and brings us unhappiness and anxiety.
In our do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do world, we tell people that emotions are neither good nor bad, they just are. We say that what you feel is what you feel, and that it should be validated. But we identify some emotions -- anger, anxiety, fear, grief -- as negative, and in reality, we hide from them, invalidate them. Are you sad? Cheer up! Angry? Get over it! Worried? Chill out! Life's too short.
Is life too short to sit by a loved one's hospital bed and wonder whether he'll recover?
Is life too short to mourn the loss of a loved one or the loss of love?
Is life too short to fear unemployment, or foreclosure, or illness?
Is life too short to ache when your child hurts?
One of the things I've always firmly believed in my classroom is that discomfort precedes growth. I worry for a culture that isn't willing be uncomfortable.