Jason and I had a conversation a little while ago that went something like this:
Me: Do you ever just look out at the world and think, wow, we're the WORST?
Jason: Ummm...
Jason: Ummm...
Me: I was watching a pelican today, he was diving into the ocean, getting just enough food for that meal. That was it. It was beautiful. Then I saw a boat, smelled the gas fumes as they idled and saw the four people on it, drinking beer, pouring some of it out into the ocean and casting nets for fish. For fun. That's when it hit me. We're the worst.
Our conversation actually took some very deep and meaningful turns, but my primary feeling at that moment was indeed the crappiness of humanity. I told Jason that we would destroy ourselves, or at least that the earth would cease to support us, and then after we were all dead and gone, the earth would remain and have produced beautiful wonderful new things. Despite us. Happily without us. I was in a real nice mood. We joked that Jason had an emotional range of let's say A-K. With "A" being "everything's awesome" and "K" being "everything's OK." I have the full range, A-Z: "Everything is Awesome" to "Bring on the Locusts and Plagues." In the middle somewhere is the quiet, calm bliss of existential "Everything is meaningless." I feel these extremes all the time. In that pelican/human scenario I literally went from "life is beautiful" to "lord of the flies."
I had a seminary friend who would say that sometimes she felt we humans needed to get in touch with our worminess a little better. As a recovering southern baptist, I felt I had had plenty of worms shoved into my face, thankyouverymuch. It took me half my adulthood to see myself as a valid non-wormy person.
However, I am now leaning back into Emily's words. What she meant (and what I witnessed that ocean day) was that we need to get in touch with the reality of how awful we are capable of being. And own it. Not by hiding behind guilt and shame over moralistic slights. Not by creating a class of purity that only the best and brightest can join and then judge others from upon our pedestal. No. By taking our blinders off to seeing that we can and have and will do things horribly wrong. We can't ignore it and assume things will work out. I talked about this in my last blog. We have to then empower ourselves to make shit right. By listening to people that we've hurt (intentionally or not) and being transformed by it. By removing our participation from the systemic injustices, or at least trying to use our privilege for good.
But here's the thing, when I go to "Z" (Lord of the Flies/Plagues) in my mind, my consolation is to turn existentially negative. To just throw my hands up in the air and declare it all a big wash in the end. Who am I to try? In Ecclesiastes the author writes "everything is meaningless" or, in the Common English Bible translation: "perfectly pointless." This guy GETS me. This idea that it's the same old shit all the time, and what the hell do I think I'm capable of doing to alter this inevitable tide? It gives me a deep sense of satisfaction that Ecclesiastes exists in the biblical canon. That people read this and thought- yes- we need to remember this too. I'm going to quote you some of it because it is hauntingly beautiful. It reminds me that I am not the only one who has ever felt this way.
However, I am now leaning back into Emily's words. What she meant (and what I witnessed that ocean day) was that we need to get in touch with the reality of how awful we are capable of being. And own it. Not by hiding behind guilt and shame over moralistic slights. Not by creating a class of purity that only the best and brightest can join and then judge others from upon our pedestal. No. By taking our blinders off to seeing that we can and have and will do things horribly wrong. We can't ignore it and assume things will work out. I talked about this in my last blog. We have to then empower ourselves to make shit right. By listening to people that we've hurt (intentionally or not) and being transformed by it. By removing our participation from the systemic injustices, or at least trying to use our privilege for good.
But here's the thing, when I go to "Z" (Lord of the Flies/Plagues) in my mind, my consolation is to turn existentially negative. To just throw my hands up in the air and declare it all a big wash in the end. Who am I to try? In Ecclesiastes the author writes "everything is meaningless" or, in the Common English Bible translation: "perfectly pointless." This guy GETS me. This idea that it's the same old shit all the time, and what the hell do I think I'm capable of doing to alter this inevitable tide? It gives me a deep sense of satisfaction that Ecclesiastes exists in the biblical canon. That people read this and thought- yes- we need to remember this too. I'm going to quote you some of it because it is hauntingly beautiful. It reminds me that I am not the only one who has ever felt this way.
3 What do people gain from all the hard work
that they work so hard at under the sun?
4 A generation goes, and a generation comes,
but the earth remains as it always has.
5 The sun rises, the sun sets;
it returns panting to the place where it dawns.
6 The wind blows to the south,
goes around to the north;
around and around blows the wind;
the wind returns to its rounds again.
7 All streams flow to the sea,
but the sea is never full;
to the place where the rivers flow,
there they continue to flow.
8 All words[c] are tiring;
no one is able to speak.
The eye isn’t satisfied with seeing,
neither is the ear filled up by hearing.
9 Whatever has happened—that’s what will happen again;
whatever has occurred—that’s what will occur again.
that they work so hard at under the sun?
4 A generation goes, and a generation comes,
but the earth remains as it always has.
5 The sun rises, the sun sets;
it returns panting to the place where it dawns.
6 The wind blows to the south,
goes around to the north;
around and around blows the wind;
the wind returns to its rounds again.
7 All streams flow to the sea,
but the sea is never full;
to the place where the rivers flow,
there they continue to flow.
8 All words[c] are tiring;
no one is able to speak.
The eye isn’t satisfied with seeing,
neither is the ear filled up by hearing.
9 Whatever has happened—that’s what will happen again;
whatever has occurred—that’s what will occur again.
There’s nothing new under the sun. 10 People may say about something: “Look at this! It’s new!” But it was already around for ages before us. 11 There’s no remembrance of things in the past, nor of things to come in the future. Neither will there be any remembrance among those who come along in the future...
14 When I observed all that happens under the sun, I realized that everything is pointless, a chasing after wind...
... I saw that wisdom is more beneficial than folly, as light is more beneficial than darkness.
This is it. This is the thing that revolves around in my head. I try to make meaning out of things but find that I keep coming back to this: "Everything is pointless, a chasing after the wind."
You might be thinking that I've been on a dark binge lately, and you are 100% correct. I need to see and feel the darkness get under my fingernails so I can get to this next part. I don't want to be blind, ignorant, silly, or foolish. I no longer can claim full ignorance to get the benefits of bliss. I've gone waist deep, so I will just go ahead and be baptized by these storm waters, choke on their salt and oil so I know just what it is I am fighting. If I even feel like fighting. I thought about sinking to the depths in despair and futility.
When I had my depressing conversation with Jason, I was throwing my hands in the air like the author of Ecclesiastes. Everything is meaningless! This evil has been here and will be here and will be here again. This struggle is not new and the sun is not surprised. Why do I even care? What is the point of the struggle if I should be locked in an eternal tug of war that has no point?
Jason got really specific and logical with me (which actually helps). We broke it down to the smallest parts. We exist. We have a choice of how to live this life- whether it is meaningless or not. We still choose. How do I choose to live my life? I knew. In the instant that I knew it might be completely meaningless, I also knew that I had to fight for good. Even if it meant nothing. Because I choose goodness. I choose love. I choose hope. Hope might not always visit me, but I will fight for it just in case she shows up. I'd much rather serve hope than fear. I'd much rather serve love than hate. The author of Ecclesiastes said: "wisdom is more beneficial than folly, as light is more beneficial than darkness." He said this even after saying that everything is meaningless. I came to the same conclusion.
So I will follow my heart and the advice of the wisdom poet. I will " eat, drink, and experience pleasure in... hard work." In doing good. I will enjoy it for the mere sake of it existing- not the lasting effects or products.
I will enjoy the sunset, because even though everything is meaningless- for some reason it is inexplicably beautiful. Why? I will enjoy friendship, because even though it is fleeting, it fills me with joy. Why? I will love my husband, because even though our relationship is not significant in the grand scheme of things, it brings me joy and depth. Why? I will love my children, because although parenting is the most difficult thing I've ever wanted to do, I would give my life for them. Why? I don't know why. I can't describe it. And the best things are the things I can't explain.
When I feel existential despair, it's hard to find my way out. It's hard not to hide under my bed covers and moan "it doesn't matter what I do anyway!"
Here are the things that keep me going: I have a choice. I choose goodness. Whether it means anything or not- it is what I want to choose every single time.
The most powerful elixir to despair I have found: beauty. It is completely unnecessary and everywhere. It isn't scarce and yet has value. If I ask why we even exist, I must also ask why the sky is beautiful. No answers, but I can enjoy them. So I may as well.
So today, on a grey Thursday on the eve before the archetype of all that is wrong with humanity is sworn into office... I offer you this: everything just might be perfectly pointless. But we still have to choose what to do. I choose to do good. It is the side I want to be on. The side of joy, love, hope, and beauty. I don't care anymore that it might be meaningless because even that doesn't change my mind. There's your existential hope. Join me in pointlessly fighting for goodness. Why the hell not?
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