Negative Space (1) - I Will Not Commiserate With You

So, here we are.

            You should fully understand where “here” is, who “we” are, and the “are” part…well, it is a little fuzzy. Some people are scared shitless, some people (about 15 million at last count) have given up are at least apathetic, and the rest of us have voluntarily buried our heads in the sand.

            That is where I am.

            I don’t know if it counts as ‘willful ignorance’, necessarily.  It’s more like I’m busy in the next room and there is a ruckus in the kitchen, could you please keep it down? I have accepted there is nothing I can do but persevere, and that has been the case along.  A very tiny amount of us having any meaningful control or can make decisions that affect us all.  We, the people, have always been mucking about.

            It doesn’t matter what you think.  It doesn’t matter what you believe.

            So, what has changed?

            For some things, I can finally admit that I am too old for that shit.  I will never argue my point, in person or online, ever again.  I know where I am right, and I know what my limitations are.  I can’t change anyone who doesn’t want to be changed.  Even if they wanted to be changed, I’m not sure I’m the guy to do it.  I’m also busy.  I work and learn programming stuff every day.  I read, exercise, and spend several minutes with my wife every week. 

            I have come to a decision about dealing with my fellow citizens, particularly the fellow lefties in my world.  I will not commiserate with you.  It’s not happening.  My guess is that with several million insulated voters repeating “It’s over, It’s over” for the last couple of years, it has given rise to a culture of spoiled bitching.  I never understood what the “it” was and how it was “over” and how the hell they would know either way outside of their bubble, but I never bought in.  We have a forward-thinking, caring contingency in this country with a lot of good ideas.  The trouble is they aren’t willing to do a damn thing about it. It’s risky.  It’s scary.  It’s inconvenient.  In years past, we had firebrands that gave speeches and stood up for equality and liberty and railed against fascism.  Their grandchildren complain about amorphous problems while they play pickleball.

            But I won’t commiserate.  I don’t believe in doom and gloom.  I believe we are in a middle chapter of history somewhere, probably one with little significance.  Also, with commiseration must come misery, and negativity is lazy.  Hate is also lazy.  We laugh and sneer at the people who live simple lives with love and kindness as if they aren’t contributing to the whole.  As if small, personal, helpful deeds don’t make a difference. They do.  They also take effort.  And there is no guaranteed return on investment.

            I long to be one of those people.  Because of my ego and all of this writing I fashion myself as a minor influencer.  Why else would I keep typing up this shit?  But I’m not.  I’m just a guy.  I engage with people in little snippets of time each day and I try to be pleasant.  I try not to be a drain or a bore or an outright asshole.  These missives I churn out every once in awhile are an attempt to put some of my hope in the world.  Yes, there is hope.  There is hope everywhere you turn.  Kids going to school, artists trying to express themselves, someone starting their own business, somebody breaking addiction, someone falling in love, finding a friend, having a baby. Those things happen thousands of times a day, and they are all hopeful.  They just don’t make the news.

            You know what my theory is?  It’s not political.  It’s cultural.  Those whiners I talked about before?  They have everything they need.  They have more than most of the world.  They just don’t have anything to do.  Our culture, the American one, just outlines what you do to succeed and make enough money.  When you are successful, that’s where the blueprints end.  There is no next chapter.  You’re supposed to “do whatever you want.” That might work for some, but a lot of people are fumbling about buying a new rug, or retiling the kitchen, or haggling over a lease on a new Infiniti.  It is empty and hollow.  The tradeoff for financial stability is inertia, in a way.  If our culture shifted from that, to one of service or sacrifice or help or just love for humanity, then maybe this type of dumb shit won’t happen anymore.