Today I was going to write about a tragedy in my youth that recently came to mind, but Cal's thoughtful comment made me think of something else: that there is reason to have not only worthy trust in many dealings with people, but with life in general.
To many of us who have lived long, this is a concept that brings to mind a lot of pixie dust. There was a folk song sung by the Kingston Trio about going to Paris as a youth and as an elder, and it begins with wine and song and great plans, and ends with "an old man goes to Paris, as every old man must .... and there he finds, his dreams have turned to dust." More popular was the one, "Those Were the Days," where the young meet in a tavern, where they "would win and never lose...oh, yes, those were the days!" In returning, they find, again, that their dreams have been crushed by life. In reading about life in 14th century Europe, I found that they had fashioned a time-line for the average nobleman. At 52, for instance, he should start to stock up for his old age. At 72, he should be prepared for death, for by this time, "all his dreams have been humbled and spoiled" or something of that nature (Babara Tuchman, "A Distant Mirror). Time, we are to understand, taunts our earlier optimism with failure and bitterness.
How, then, can we trust life? My own plans for a great life have been so twisted as to be unrecognizable. That is less so for some others around me, but still - how many counted on what they have now at, say, 60, when they were 20? It is not so much the "stuff" as the success, the fulfillment of dreams. Did your children turn out as you wished? Has your marriage lived up to the certainties you had in those first years after the wedding? Are you living the life you had dreamed of in your youth?
I would bet that few would say "yes" to all the above, although one or two facets may be surprisingly good. We might add that disease and the ravages of old age are to blame for a lot of the pessimism, but for now let's just look at the facts of material and social well-being. Chances are, your life doesn't measure up to your 20-something dreams. Again, with that in mind, how can we trust life?
I have written more than a few essays and blogs about "meaningful coincidence," or what Carl Jung called "synchronicity" and I have another one from recent experience to recount: driving in an unfamiliar rural area a few weeks ago, my wife and I were suddenly confronted by a detour sign that veered us away from the town we had planned to travel through. Messing with the GPS and looking for road signs, we finally got ourselves together, driving on a semi-rural road heading outside of town. All things seemed fine until a police car coming from the other direction passed us. I was going 38 MPH, which seemed more than reasonable, but still I knew I was screwed. For some reason, though, I couldn't think to slow down, and within 15 seconds, the cop was behind us, lights flashing, and I got a substantial ticket for going 13 mph over the speed limit. In this area outside of town, the speed limit, which we never saw, was a measly 25 mph!
Pain in the butt and meaningless as far as I know - and yet, meant to be - so much so that I was powerless to stop it, as if hypnotized. In the past, I also met my future wife in such an improbable way, found money to do expensive fieldwork in the Amazon, found the right buyer for our house at the right time, and spoke or appeared at others at exactly the wrong time. What brings all these elements together is that they were so exquisitely designed that they seemed planned for my life in ways I could not (and cannot) imagine. For a few, they brought my own plans into reality. For most, they drew me away from my own plans. In a manner of speaking, often times these odd coincidences came to "crush" my dreams for the future.
When I was 9, my greatest dream was to find a box of M-80 firecrackers dropped by accident from a passing truck. In hindsight, I think I can clearly say that this would have brought disaster. In my early 20 's, I would have loved to have had all the booze and pot and girls that I could handle, with lots left over for my friends. Looking at the life of rock stars, again I think I can say that this would have led to disaster. In my 30's, I wanted more than anything else a tenured position at a university. I do not know what that might have brought, but I would not have my life now, and I also know that my time in academia was the least spiritual of my life. Now I look for a prosperous retirement, a long and healthy life, a quick and painless death, and, yes, the success of my books which sit idle because I don't have the money, influence, or (gasp!) maybe even talent to get them published. How wrong these desires are I have no idea, but I bet some will prove to be seriously flawed from hindsight - perhaps a hindsight gained from a different kind of life after death.
Tomorrow I will describe the tragedy that occurred during my youth. It was one of the bad ones, and it will be hard to see any benefit in it. It does seem, however, that as controlled as our future is, it is not absolutely controlled. We can screw it up with addictions or extremely rash or selfish behavior, and screw other people's lives up that way as well. With that, it is hard to determine which is determined and which is wholly our blame. However, by in large, it seems we are led by a force at times that changes our course in life. Not all the time, but at crucial times, and this often seems to thwart our plans. But our plans are as flawed as our understanding of life, for how can one make perfect plans without knowing the variables perfectly? And so sometimes we are led, as a child is led away from the dangerous road, even when we stomp and kick our feet about it.
The bitter old men in Paris - are they really that bitter? Or is it a bitter-sweet nostalgia, the memories of life-long warriors? For we know, if we are honest, that we have gained some wisdom in our sorrows and disappointments at the very least. I would rather have my way, make no mistake about it, but it is clear that this will often not happen because something else, something that is outside me, has other plans. Given fireworks and drugs and rock and roll and tenure in a sterile department, it would be to my advantage to give the outside force a little credit. And I am beginning to see that perhaps I should put a little faith in it as well - if not a lot. "To lose the world is to gain it." I am not that wise yet, but perhaps that's where we are ultimately being led. FK
To many of us who have lived long, this is a concept that brings to mind a lot of pixie dust. There was a folk song sung by the Kingston Trio about going to Paris as a youth and as an elder, and it begins with wine and song and great plans, and ends with "an old man goes to Paris, as every old man must .... and there he finds, his dreams have turned to dust." More popular was the one, "Those Were the Days," where the young meet in a tavern, where they "would win and never lose...oh, yes, those were the days!" In returning, they find, again, that their dreams have been crushed by life. In reading about life in 14th century Europe, I found that they had fashioned a time-line for the average nobleman. At 52, for instance, he should start to stock up for his old age. At 72, he should be prepared for death, for by this time, "all his dreams have been humbled and spoiled" or something of that nature (Babara Tuchman, "A Distant Mirror). Time, we are to understand, taunts our earlier optimism with failure and bitterness.
How, then, can we trust life? My own plans for a great life have been so twisted as to be unrecognizable. That is less so for some others around me, but still - how many counted on what they have now at, say, 60, when they were 20? It is not so much the "stuff" as the success, the fulfillment of dreams. Did your children turn out as you wished? Has your marriage lived up to the certainties you had in those first years after the wedding? Are you living the life you had dreamed of in your youth?
I would bet that few would say "yes" to all the above, although one or two facets may be surprisingly good. We might add that disease and the ravages of old age are to blame for a lot of the pessimism, but for now let's just look at the facts of material and social well-being. Chances are, your life doesn't measure up to your 20-something dreams. Again, with that in mind, how can we trust life?
I have written more than a few essays and blogs about "meaningful coincidence," or what Carl Jung called "synchronicity" and I have another one from recent experience to recount: driving in an unfamiliar rural area a few weeks ago, my wife and I were suddenly confronted by a detour sign that veered us away from the town we had planned to travel through. Messing with the GPS and looking for road signs, we finally got ourselves together, driving on a semi-rural road heading outside of town. All things seemed fine until a police car coming from the other direction passed us. I was going 38 MPH, which seemed more than reasonable, but still I knew I was screwed. For some reason, though, I couldn't think to slow down, and within 15 seconds, the cop was behind us, lights flashing, and I got a substantial ticket for going 13 mph over the speed limit. In this area outside of town, the speed limit, which we never saw, was a measly 25 mph!
Pain in the butt and meaningless as far as I know - and yet, meant to be - so much so that I was powerless to stop it, as if hypnotized. In the past, I also met my future wife in such an improbable way, found money to do expensive fieldwork in the Amazon, found the right buyer for our house at the right time, and spoke or appeared at others at exactly the wrong time. What brings all these elements together is that they were so exquisitely designed that they seemed planned for my life in ways I could not (and cannot) imagine. For a few, they brought my own plans into reality. For most, they drew me away from my own plans. In a manner of speaking, often times these odd coincidences came to "crush" my dreams for the future.
When I was 9, my greatest dream was to find a box of M-80 firecrackers dropped by accident from a passing truck. In hindsight, I think I can clearly say that this would have brought disaster. In my early 20 's, I would have loved to have had all the booze and pot and girls that I could handle, with lots left over for my friends. Looking at the life of rock stars, again I think I can say that this would have led to disaster. In my 30's, I wanted more than anything else a tenured position at a university. I do not know what that might have brought, but I would not have my life now, and I also know that my time in academia was the least spiritual of my life. Now I look for a prosperous retirement, a long and healthy life, a quick and painless death, and, yes, the success of my books which sit idle because I don't have the money, influence, or (gasp!) maybe even talent to get them published. How wrong these desires are I have no idea, but I bet some will prove to be seriously flawed from hindsight - perhaps a hindsight gained from a different kind of life after death.
Tomorrow I will describe the tragedy that occurred during my youth. It was one of the bad ones, and it will be hard to see any benefit in it. It does seem, however, that as controlled as our future is, it is not absolutely controlled. We can screw it up with addictions or extremely rash or selfish behavior, and screw other people's lives up that way as well. With that, it is hard to determine which is determined and which is wholly our blame. However, by in large, it seems we are led by a force at times that changes our course in life. Not all the time, but at crucial times, and this often seems to thwart our plans. But our plans are as flawed as our understanding of life, for how can one make perfect plans without knowing the variables perfectly? And so sometimes we are led, as a child is led away from the dangerous road, even when we stomp and kick our feet about it.
The bitter old men in Paris - are they really that bitter? Or is it a bitter-sweet nostalgia, the memories of life-long warriors? For we know, if we are honest, that we have gained some wisdom in our sorrows and disappointments at the very least. I would rather have my way, make no mistake about it, but it is clear that this will often not happen because something else, something that is outside me, has other plans. Given fireworks and drugs and rock and roll and tenure in a sterile department, it would be to my advantage to give the outside force a little credit. And I am beginning to see that perhaps I should put a little faith in it as well - if not a lot. "To lose the world is to gain it." I am not that wise yet, but perhaps that's where we are ultimately being led. FK
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