I don’t know about you, but I keep coming across all these little aphorisms that say things like, “do not worry,” or “worry never robs tomorrow of its sorrow, it only saps today of its joy.” On days like today, those kinds of helpful phrases infuriate me. I am trying to take joy in the day, but worry won’t leave me alone, and I apparently haven’t been doing my willpower sit-ups so the iron-hard mental muscles needed to keep it at bay have gotten all soft and flabby. I end up feeling like a loser and failure as well as suffering from whatever it is that ails me.
Except, I know better. I know that these feelings (worry, fear, anger, dismay) I am trying to push down are actually gifts, guides, and helpers. They are not unwanted intruders. They are the black sheep of the family, and they are telling me that something important is going on inside that needs my attention. What’s more, they and I all know there is no good purpose served by flexing those will-power muscles to lock the door. Everybody in the family knows right where we hide the extra key.
So, instead of ignoring the feelings, I sat down and I journaled, and what started to come out was a lot of self-talk about how I need to “work harder,” “buckle down,” “suck it up,” and “accept facts.” Even though everything is very stable in my life right now, my household is preparing for significant change, and there are a lot of unknowns. Our baseline security is being upended, and that generates serious apprehensions.
One of the greatest of these is that I have real doubts about my ability to provide for us financially. My current job is barely adequate for meeting our standard of living. What’s more, it is not satisfying to me on so many levels. However, this job provides both health insurance and the assurance that mortgage payments will be met. And also, there is this piece of me that believes I am barely adequate. When I start to look for other work, that piece tells me things like, “So that’s why this particular job landed in your lap. This is the best you can do, which is why you need to stop whining, and make the best of it.”
This part of me believes life is a subsistence, survival-mode kind of thing. It believes that only the strong survive and that only the fittest deserve to be. I believe it developed to cope with some situation in my past. I think it got me through difficult challenges, but it is the part of me that killed my life in my mid-20’s, and it is built out of lies.
I am not the fittest in any kind of way, and were life the Jurassic Park fairytale I imagine, I would not be one of the people who makes it through. I’m the one in the diabetic coma you all are trying to carry while you run. I am the one who gets tragically left behind when hard decisions have to be made. If I am heroic, I take that choice on myself by disappearing into the jungle one night while the rest of you are sleeping so no one has to feel guilty about not staying with me until the end.
And while it is my nature to make light of this, I have spent an awful lot of creative energy trying to be worthy of life: to deserve to be; to have a right to exist; to pay the appropriate dues, and to provide the appropriate amount of work; to add equal value for all the resources I consume. To have a net-zero impact on this world.
Those lessons we learn first, they are so hard to leave behind. Yet, this lesson is one I leave behind and leave behind, and leave behind. It is a life-choking weed of a lesson-a soul-sucking parasite of a lesson. Whatever value it may have added has long since passed away.
Our lives are not won by strength, merit, accomplishment, or valor. They are not competitions, games, tournaments, sports, attainments, or inheritances, and despite every delusional power that tries to tell us otherwise, no single life being lived has earned its place.
Our lives- my life, your life-are inexplicable packages given to us to be opened for our own discovery, delight and pleasure. They are infinitely precious because nothing like them has ever been before and they will never happen again.
It is this lesson I want to lean on, because it is this lesson that led someone to search for a cure for diabetes and gave people like me additional years of life. It is this lesson, searching for the why behind leukemia, that discovered that the difference between life and death is something we carry in our bones. It is this lesson that means I live in a world that learned from Stephen Hawking, and it is this lesson that laughs at survival of the fittest as the best possible outcome for the human condition.
Human beings (and dogs and houseplants) are capable of surviving really tough conditions, horrible situations, and terrible cruelty. Sometimes, life asks us to step up, buckle down, and suck it up. Sometimes, all any of us can do is endure. Yet, human beings (and dogs and houseplants) truly thrive when we expect better than mere survival from ourselves and others: when we create environments of care for those whose health is failing; when we slow down and wait for everyone else to catch up; when we offer a shoulder to the weary, and carry each others’ burdens for a while.
When we–when I–remember the vulnerable, fragile, impossibility that is my life, it gives me courage to simply be. And to know. And in being, in knowing, I find I don’t need some iron-willed discipline to banish worry, fear and dismay. All I need do is breathe and remember. It may be it is the fittest, the worthiest, who survive, but it is us meek ones who truly inherit the earth.