The Church of Easy Answers
When I was younger I believed in easy answers. I believed that anything that didn't come easy, or at least with little effort, was best dealt with by giving up and moving on; finding a new easy answer to replace the hard question more than resolve it. In fact, this belief was so entrenched in the foundation of who I was that I didn't even recognize it for what it was. I would only ever try to a certain extent, and even as I was giving up I would think that I did my best. But the simple fact is that with a lot of things I did, I never even came close to doing my best. If the answer came with relative ease, which it usually did, I'd get it and I'd move on. But if something went wrong in the process of working this out, like a step that could only be reached via a necessary method that I couldn't figure out, or even if the process itself was just taking too long, I'd simply walk away. No harm done, right? I did my best, didn't I? Obviously it would be better if I just stayed with the knowledge I had attained easily until I find the next concept that comes easy. Or the worst argument I could say to myself....
If I really wanted it that badly, it wouldn't be this hard.
It's really quite amazing how I survived as long as I did jumping from one easy answer to another. But at the same time it really isn't. Continuing to believe in easy answers is simply a starting point, and until this is realized and rectified every possible path branching off from this one core belief is a downhill road that easily winds until the original path is a distant memory from a previous life; something almost forgettable as the need for an easy answer keeps you skipping over the more complicated questions or complex situations that just don't fit in your search of the next landing point able to be ascertained with little to no effort. And then, when you start to notice that you've been skipping entire paragraphs, pages, years, life-changing events, etc, you start to create the easy answers to fill in the blanks. The easiest of these answers is always something along the lines of "It's not my fault". Because once you establish that, everything else can be explained easily. It's just a matter if filling in the blanks. You've justified where you are. In fact, it's where you wanted to be all along. You just didn't know it until now. But it feels so right. I mean, it's easy! How can it not feel right?
But then "It's not my fault" turns into "It's everyone's fault but mine". Then the easy answer is to place blame. To cut people out of your life. To gradually isolate yourself. And, sure, you make new friends. You have people on your side through every easy answer that you've followed. Why? Because you're the one retelling the events. And you tell it with conviction, because you truly believe this is what happened! And it is easy to believe because you followed every single easy answer there was to follow along the way, thus making the story easy to follow and you, the hero of the tale, easy to relate to.
But as the pattern unfolds and repeats, unfolds and repeats, eventually it will be discovered that something will be the fault of this friend; or this group of friends; or this community. And it will be time to move on again. And eventually there will be no more new friends or circles of friends to jump to; no new community to be welcomed and enfolded in to. And then the easy answer is the pure sanctity of isolation. Worlds of walls to be embraced within, alone. Roots to be made out of alienating vines that have touched too many soils to know how deep any of them go.
Then, if you're lucky, a question that is completely unanswerable in your Church of Easy Answers, yet at the same time completely unavoidable, causes convictions to crack. The irony is that it probably presents itself as an easy question. Maybe even a question you've satisfactorily answered several leaps before. "Why am I still sad?". "Why am I lonely?". "Am I still a good person?". Maybe even just "Who can I hang out with tonight?". That's when those easy answers become uneasy realities that you're alone and you've burned every bridge before it was even built completely. And sometimes there's nothing more perplexing than a yes or no question.
Again, if you're lucky, you start to piece things together. You start to put a little more time and a little more effort in those processes. Backtracking is never as fast as the original trip down, but by necessity it is much more thorough. You find that there are some bridges that you can rebuild, there are some stretches you probably shouldn't retread, and that there is some damage you simply can't undo. But it's important to find a new branch of this path to head back to the foundation, even if it's a harder course. Even if it's a painful answer and a long hard look in the mirror at more stops than you can count. But you keep learning as you go back up the now rocky, angled path. You learn to let go of some things that are easy to carry with you on the way down, but that only weigh you down on the way back up. Maybe it's that false sense of pride that goes first. Maybe it's the devastating habit of isolation. Maybe it's the burden of immunity from self blame. And as you let these things go, it's just as important to remember that "This is good enough" is just another easy answer when you know you're not there yet. Because all variations included, you can only take a path in two directions: Up and down. Standing still just doesn't happen. But if you can reach the foundation, the core of the belief that launches everything, and change that one simple truth, then maybe you can start a new path. A less destructive path. A good path with it's own trials and tribulations. Not an easy path, but a maneuverable one that leads away from walls and toward redemption. Toward trust. Toward love.
So here I am. I'm not sure if I'm in the middle of backtracking or much closer to that original point where I realized that I needed to. But I am trying to find my way back up. I've definitely had some looks in the mirror. And I'm learning the hard way that there are some hurtful things I've done that I can't fix or undo. But I won't let that drag me down, and I won't stop trying to be a better person. Or just a good person for that matter. Just keep going up.
Easy, right?
If I really wanted it that badly, it wouldn't be this hard.
It's really quite amazing how I survived as long as I did jumping from one easy answer to another. But at the same time it really isn't. Continuing to believe in easy answers is simply a starting point, and until this is realized and rectified every possible path branching off from this one core belief is a downhill road that easily winds until the original path is a distant memory from a previous life; something almost forgettable as the need for an easy answer keeps you skipping over the more complicated questions or complex situations that just don't fit in your search of the next landing point able to be ascertained with little to no effort. And then, when you start to notice that you've been skipping entire paragraphs, pages, years, life-changing events, etc, you start to create the easy answers to fill in the blanks. The easiest of these answers is always something along the lines of "It's not my fault". Because once you establish that, everything else can be explained easily. It's just a matter if filling in the blanks. You've justified where you are. In fact, it's where you wanted to be all along. You just didn't know it until now. But it feels so right. I mean, it's easy! How can it not feel right?
But then "It's not my fault" turns into "It's everyone's fault but mine". Then the easy answer is to place blame. To cut people out of your life. To gradually isolate yourself. And, sure, you make new friends. You have people on your side through every easy answer that you've followed. Why? Because you're the one retelling the events. And you tell it with conviction, because you truly believe this is what happened! And it is easy to believe because you followed every single easy answer there was to follow along the way, thus making the story easy to follow and you, the hero of the tale, easy to relate to.
But as the pattern unfolds and repeats, unfolds and repeats, eventually it will be discovered that something will be the fault of this friend; or this group of friends; or this community. And it will be time to move on again. And eventually there will be no more new friends or circles of friends to jump to; no new community to be welcomed and enfolded in to. And then the easy answer is the pure sanctity of isolation. Worlds of walls to be embraced within, alone. Roots to be made out of alienating vines that have touched too many soils to know how deep any of them go.
Then, if you're lucky, a question that is completely unanswerable in your Church of Easy Answers, yet at the same time completely unavoidable, causes convictions to crack. The irony is that it probably presents itself as an easy question. Maybe even a question you've satisfactorily answered several leaps before. "Why am I still sad?". "Why am I lonely?". "Am I still a good person?". Maybe even just "Who can I hang out with tonight?". That's when those easy answers become uneasy realities that you're alone and you've burned every bridge before it was even built completely. And sometimes there's nothing more perplexing than a yes or no question.
Again, if you're lucky, you start to piece things together. You start to put a little more time and a little more effort in those processes. Backtracking is never as fast as the original trip down, but by necessity it is much more thorough. You find that there are some bridges that you can rebuild, there are some stretches you probably shouldn't retread, and that there is some damage you simply can't undo. But it's important to find a new branch of this path to head back to the foundation, even if it's a harder course. Even if it's a painful answer and a long hard look in the mirror at more stops than you can count. But you keep learning as you go back up the now rocky, angled path. You learn to let go of some things that are easy to carry with you on the way down, but that only weigh you down on the way back up. Maybe it's that false sense of pride that goes first. Maybe it's the devastating habit of isolation. Maybe it's the burden of immunity from self blame. And as you let these things go, it's just as important to remember that "This is good enough" is just another easy answer when you know you're not there yet. Because all variations included, you can only take a path in two directions: Up and down. Standing still just doesn't happen. But if you can reach the foundation, the core of the belief that launches everything, and change that one simple truth, then maybe you can start a new path. A less destructive path. A good path with it's own trials and tribulations. Not an easy path, but a maneuverable one that leads away from walls and toward redemption. Toward trust. Toward love.
So here I am. I'm not sure if I'm in the middle of backtracking or much closer to that original point where I realized that I needed to. But I am trying to find my way back up. I've definitely had some looks in the mirror. And I'm learning the hard way that there are some hurtful things I've done that I can't fix or undo. But I won't let that drag me down, and I won't stop trying to be a better person. Or just a good person for that matter. Just keep going up.
Easy, right?