Merely Human

Friends of ours took their family to a resort over the Thanksgiving holidays and let everyone know how much fun they intended to have (and have been having since arriving) by emailing and posting photos of every part of the trip. I find there is nothing like a play-by-play account of the wanton spending of money to inspire envy in even the most enlightened individual, and so it was that I fell from the pious pinnacle of my stupa and became just human enough to adhere pejoratives such as “wanton” and “wasteful” to people whose integrity and good-heartedness I have heretofore had no reason to doubt.

I have never been to a resort over a holiday, you see; nor to Disneyworld or Disneyland or on a cruise or to a foreign country other than to adopt a child that we would then spend over $350,000 to raise, according to U.S. government statistics, while our friends all have the requisite 1.86 perfect children, none of whom came from countries that lack adequate resort facilities, much less require any sort of remedial help, orthodontia, or medical or psychological interventions.

My Facebook status that day stated that being jealous reminded me that I was human, and friends joked about how I needed to be reminded of my humanity. What I meant, though, was that I’m not much given to jealousy or covetousness, for I myself am regularly the object of other people’s projections of failure or success (as the case may be) and know that the reality of what it took to get here and what it takes to live here every day is not enviable or, on the other hand, regrettable because it’s my life: My life that I have chosen a million times and have built for myself over countless moments and which could not have been lived by anyone else.

What this means, of course, is that I chose to live this life. I’m not a victim of my own life, meaning that nobody put a gun to my head or isolated me in a cell or stretched me out for torture until I succumbed and agreed to marry my righteous but pig-headed husband, or have umpteen children, most of whom had already received life’s cruelest psychological, spiritual, and emotional wound in the first hours, weeks, months or years of life, or compelled me to do or be any of the things I regularly regret doing or being because the lives my neighbors live look so much more inviting for their novelty, ease, and ability to inspire envy in me.

It means, too, on a deeper level that when I say I am human, I mean that I’ve caught myself being human: fallen, falling short, less than godly, less than a goddess. I joked in my next Facebook status update that I am usually a goddess, but I wasn’t really joking, for, as St. Paul said, “We have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the surpassing power may be of God and not from ourselves.” People tend to focus on the surpassing power of God part without noticing that Paul wrote that we have this treasure, we have this treasure of the very power of God, the godhead, within us–the same resurrection power that created the universe with a word, impregnated a virgin, and brought Christ out of the grave after three days and three nights. That very power: in me.

Having God ride shotgun in my life means that I was disappointed about the envy I felt, for I’m used to not feeling envious due to a typical lack of attachment to things that had me telling the cleaning ladies a few weeks back not to worry if they broke anything, for it was all destined to perish anyway, and there was nothing in my house that breathes or inspires life into its inhabitants except for the inhabitants themselves, at which they looked at me agape. I had, you see, forgotten that attachment to people is an attachment, too, and projecting my “wish I could’s” onto my friends or children is no less a crime than being attached to the objects in one’s house, for people are not possessions and it is not the job of anyone else to carry my unlived life.

What my jealousy meant, in part, was that I wished I could go to a resort but I couldn’t, because I have Too Many Children and Not Enough Money. But under cross-examination, the witness admits that she could probably afford to go to a resort, go to Paris, buy her 16-year-old a brand new car, or do any manner of things other people do with their money if that were her value or desire. The problem, she further admits, is that she chooses not to value trips to resorts as much as she values the life she has chosen for herself.

The other problem is, of course, that I need someone or something onto whom or which I can project my unlived life so that I’ll continue to have a handy excuse for not living it. Alternatively, I need something to focus on that will keep me from progressing in my career as a goddess who is more attached to the things of the spiritual world than those of this temporal one.

The day I was overcome with jealously, I read this in Jung’s Psychology and the East, and it made me smile with a smile that felt like a death mask because I could see my bias toward the temporal over the eternal:

The externalization of culture may do away with a great many evils whose removal seems most desirable and beneficial, yet this step forward, as experience shows, is all too clearly paid for with a loss of spiritual culture. It is undeniably much more comfortable to live in a well-planned and hygienically equipped house, but this still does not answer the question of who is the dweller in this house and whether his soul rejoices in the same order and cleanliness as the house which ministers to his outer life. The man whose interests are all outside is never satisfied with what is necessary, but is perpetually hankering after something more and better which, true to his bias, he always seeks outside himself. He forgets completely that, for all his outward successes, he himself remains the same inwardly, and he therefore laments his poverty if he possesses only one automobile when the majority have two. Obviously the outward lives of men could do with a lot more bettering and beautifying, but these things lose their meaning when the inner man does not keep pace with them. To be satiated with “necessities” is no doubt an inestimable source of happiness, yet the inner man continues to raise his claim, and this can be satisfied by no outward possessions. And the less this voice is heard in the chase after the brilliant things of this world, the more the inner man becomes the source of inexplicable misfortune and uncomprehended unhappiness in the midst of living conditions whose outcome was expected to be entirely different. The externalization of life turns to incurable suffering, because no one can understand why he should suffer from himself. No one wonders at his insatiability, but regards it as his lawful right, never thinking that the one-sidedness of this psychic diet leads in the end to the gravest disturbances of equilibrium. That is the sickness of Western man, and he will not rest until he has infected the whole world with his own greedy restlessness (para. 962).

As Proverbs 27:20 says, “Sheol and Abaddon are never satisfied; nor are the eyes of man ever satisfied.” We’re made with the quality of Never Satisfied because Never Satisfied is in our deepest beings as a sign and emblem of the depths of symbolic spiritual experience to which we can go if we will only dare. Most don’t dare, but remain stuck on a sensual, temporal level that belies a commensurately cavernous spiritual emptiness, the likes of which I recognized in myself with surprise, dread, and awe the day I envied my neighbor’s good fortune.

References

Jung, C. G. (1978). Psychology and the East. (R. F. C. Hull, Trans.), from The Collected Works of C. G. Jung, Vols. 10, 11, 13, and 18. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.

What if?

And turning His gaze on His disciples, Jesus began to say, “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who hunger now, for you shall be satisfied. Blessed are you who weep now, for you shall laugh. Blessed are you when men hate you, and ostracize you, and cast insults at you, and spurn your name as evil, for the sake of the Son of Man. Be glad in that day, and leap for joy, for behold, your reward is great in heaven; for in the same way their fathers used to treat the prophets.”

But woe to you who are rich, for you are receiving your comfort in full. Woe to you who are well-fed now, for you shall be hungry. Woe to you who laugh now, for you shall mourn and weep. Woe to you when all men speak well of you, for in the same way their fathers used to treat the false prophets.

But I say to you who hear, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. Whoever hits you on the cheek, offer him the other also; and whoever takes away your coat, do not withhold your shirt from him either. Give to everyone who asks of you, and whoever takes away what is yours, do not demand it back. And just as you want people to treat you, treat them in the same way.

And if you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them. And if you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners do the same. And if you lend to those from whom you expect to receive, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, in order to receive back the same amount.

But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return; and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High; for He Himself is kind to ungrateful and evil men. Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful. And do not judge and you will not be judged; and do not condemn, and you will not be condemned; pardon, and you will be pardoned.

Give, and it will be given to you; good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, they will pour into your lap. For by your standard of measure it will be measured to you in return.

And He also spoke a parable to them: “A blind man cannot guide a blind man, can he? Will they not both fall into a pit? A pupil is not above his teacher; but everyone, after he has been fully trained, will be like his teacher.”

And why do you look at the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Brother, let me take out the speck that is in your eye,’ when you yourself do not see the log that is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take out the speck that is in your brother’s eye.

For there is no good tree which produces bad fruit; nor, on the other hand, a bad tree which produces good fruit. For each tree is known by its own fruit. For men do not gather figs from thorns, nor do they pick grapes from a briar bush.

The good man out of the good treasure of his heart brings forth what is good; and the evil man out of the evil treasure brings forth what is evil; for his mouth speaks from that which fills his heart.

“And why do you call Me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ and do not do what I say? Everyone who comes to Me, and hears My words, and acts upon them, I will show you whom he is like: he is like a man building a house, who dug deep and laid a foundation upon the rock; and when a flood rose, the torrent burst against that house and could not shake it, because it had been well built.”

“But the one who has heard, and has not acted accordingly, is like a man who built a house upon the ground without any foundation; and the torrent burst against it and immediately it collapsed, and the ruin of that house was great” (Luke 6:20-49)

What if we believed these things? What if we acted upon them?

What would life be like in our world, if we were so unattached to our stuff that we freely gave when giving was demanded of us? What if we did not have such a sense of entitlement to every comfort and convenience in the world that we were people who demanded that others caretake us and gave us what was theirs?

What if we were not so stingy that we refused to give out of our amazing abundance? What if we remembered every single day that when we die, we’ll take nothing with us? What if we were generous to the point of giving our undershirts to the person who demanded only an overcoat?

What if we were grateful for what we had, rather than only being envious of others and what they have? What if we stopped inspecting others altogether, and inspected only our own selves?

What if we didn’t only say we loved others, but we acted like it? What if we didn’t only pay God lip-service, but we actually looked like Him? What if love was our only standard?

What if we stopped being such abominable hypocrites, and were humble and lowly of heart?

What if we just sat still under a bodhi tree until enlightenment came?

What if our fruit was good and sweet, and dripping with compassion and love?

What would our world be like, if we were like that?

Where do you draw the line?

The woodsy smell of the fire my husband had built in our gathering room suffused the house and gently goaded me to consciousness. As I waited for the water to boil for tea, I shuffled outside with the dogs. The air was as sharp and crisp as Vermont cheddar cheese. As I looked out over the pasture, one of my first coherent thoughts of the day was a question: What’s the difference between a Republican and a Democrat, a conservative and a liberal? Where are our differences?

I poured the tea and remembered the weekend I spent with my friend Sandra, the facilitator of a Jungian group in a nearby state and a staunch Democrat. She is one of the kindest, most interesting and most hospitable women I’ve met, and I’ve met a lot of women in half a century. One of the best words I can think of to describe her is “delightful.”

Most of the group that Sandy has met with for over a decade are Democrats, and one holds political office. I fit right in with their group, though, as often happens when I go around people, for I am interested in and curious about people, and I find something lovable in everyone. They were much the same—caring, friendly, warm, intelligent. Warmth has no political party, and so we all got along.

A few years ago, Sandra’s son, Ben, had a near-fatal car accident that left him a quadriplegic. As we drove to Ben’s house to visit, Sandy told me the story of his suffering and the toll it had taken on the whole family. It was a difficult story to hear, but Ben had adapted and is an active, interesting man who is always busy doing something useful. He had bought a lovely home on the lake, but was having problems with a local businessman, whose property Ben has to go through to get to his house. This businessman has piled the access road to Ben’s house with all sorts of salvage and junk, usually in defiance of the city codes. He wants to buy Ben’s property, they explained, and so is making life as difficult as possible for Ben in hopes that Ben will give up the fight and move. Sandra pointed out that Ben’s special van or an ambulance can barely make it through the access road, so great is the businessman’s encroachment. In a life that has already been full enough of suffering, Ben had one more fight on his hands.

We had to slow down as we approached Ben’s property through the jumble of junk piled along both sides of the access road. The very sight of it incensed Sandra, who exclaimed, “Those damn Republicans! They care nothing about anyone else!” I, her shocked Republican house guest, said nothing, for I too was appalled by this man’s terrible behavior. Even so, Sandra’s sense of outrage was no greater than the offense I felt over being lumped in with an asshole who used his power and money to make life miserable for a quadriplegic.

This moment has stayed with me ever since. When my emotion rises and I think a thought that begins with, “Those damn—!” I know that I’ve already gone past the point of reason and am dealing with others out of my pain and frustration. Pain and frustration can transform us, but they also have the power to alienate us and drive us to see our pain and the cause of it everywhere. This is where bigotry and prejudice often arise. Prejudice does not see individuals, it only sees collectives.

What, exactly, divides us by political party, by label, by outlook? Have we worked out what we mean by our political party affiliations, whatever our nationalities? What do you mean to communicate with your vote? What values are behind it? What makes us so passionate about our politics, if not our closely-held beliefs?

Sandra’s entirely understandable fury against the politics of greed has changed me in a subtle but significant way. I know now that my Democrat friends may well see Republicans as greedy, mean-spirited or exploitive people. I understand that Republicans tend to see Democrats as lazy and amoral. But I wonder what it is that really divides people. I suspect only a handful of so-called social issues divide us, and most of them are not as much social as they are moral: abortion, gay marriage, and money. Isn’t this what all this fuss boils down to? If not, what else would you add to this short list?

I’ve been wondering. So I looked up some demographics, and I’ll be writing about those because what I learned was interesting and sometimes even surprising. We are alike more than you’d think. I suspect so much of this is about money, the haves and the have-nots. I suspect that I may find that Jesus was right again when he said, “Where your money is, there will your heart be also.”

In the meantime, I thought I’d ask you: What do you think divides political parties and people? What values do you believe you have that the opposing political party does not share? Is there one issue in particular that decides whether you are liberal, conservative, libertarian, Democrat, Republican, Independent, moderate? Where do you draw your line, and why?