Who We Are

The original germ for this study of "who we are" came from Elizabeth Gilbert's book Eat Pray Love. The second germ for it came from watching the Queen Elizabeth I sequel movie with Cate Blanchett last night. I sat there in the theater and thought about the violence and the rage within people, the jealousy and the frustration, and I saw some joy, peace, and love, too. I thought, "This is who we are."

In her book, Liz Gilbert describes the story of a psychologist friend who helped Asian refugees in America who'd survived terrible trials prior to their arrival. Despite their suffering, the women lamented breakups with their boyfriends, the stress of leaving behind men they'd met during their ordeal, the reality that their boyfriends in the home counry finding new companions in their absence, that their boyfriends still loved them in spite of new relationships or even new families. Liz thought their preoccupation with men was amazing, considering what they'd survived. "This is who we are," her friend told her. This interest is what defines us, humanity. Our connections to others are among our most serious and significant characteristics.

At the movie last night, I realized that just as much, that movie represents who we are, too. Elizabeth the Queen longed for a man to appreciate her for herself, but she couldn't and wouldn't have wanted to separate her femininity from her throne. She couldn't afford to. In the movie, characters wanted power and control. Conviction of rectitude led them to terrible acts, which they justified in the name of everything from God to loyalty to country to desperate emotion. This is Elizabethan England? It looks, sounds, and if I were there, it'd smell an awful lot like modern times.

Sure, there are evil people in the world. There are wars and losses and fears and frustrations and people who serve their own self-interests for power or attention over the basic truths.

I think of Al Gore, a leader who has obtained great power and authority over his interest in "global warming." However, Gore refuses to entertain any debate whatsoever on the issue, declaring it "over," shutting down the voices of legitimate scientists who point out inconsistencies with the relationship between carbon and temperature, as illustrated by Gore. If the debate is indeed over, he must think, then why should he listen to more people, especially if they disagree with him? But then, if he's so sure he's right, what's the danger in entertaining their theories? So much for having a free-thinking country. Entering into a dialogue with those who challenge him is a chance for learning, for the genuine truth to emerge; he has nothing to fear if it's the truth that matters to him. Doesn't it take educated debate, communication, over a long time with lots of tries and lots of tests, to determine truth? But it seems Gore must maintain single-mindedly focused on only his initial agenda, and I become further convinced that the only thing that will emerge is that he's an ass.

In the same way (and lest I be accused of partisianism), I see our President doggedly pursues his own path in our "War on Terror," a path that is generating far more questions than he deigns to answer. How can what's best for the people of America and the Middle East emerge without meaningful dialogue and concerted -- combined -- agreement and effort on action? Why should his path be the only and best way? Why doesn't he want to learn from those who think differently from him? The truth is our friend. But it seems he refuses to acknowledge any other choice but the one he's chosen, and the voices that long to dialogue with him get lost in the middle ground.

But this is who we are. We justify all sorts of questionable behaviors becase we "care so much," are "so sure" we are correct," or "fear so desperately" the time "lost" for true exploration and edification. We stop looking for new answers and become wedded with our original plans. We do it to save face. We do it because, for lack of choosing to learn over the chance to pontificate, we don't know any better.

I did this when my marriage ended. I spent three years insisting that life went on quite merrily, and I made life do that very thing, but was I happy? No. It was only when I began allowing the truth to seep into my consciousness, to emerge from the ashes of my old life, that I began to understand the way things really were and how I want to them to be. It took courage to accept that truth is different than I imagined it was, that my life in the future would be different, too. But to keep my finger on the pulse of this truth is a constant courtship. Truth is truth, but truth is not constant. What's true right now may not remain true in the future. Self-awareness. Self-knowledge. Honesty and little internal polling. That's the way to remain who I am, not what I think I am or wish I were.

I see a lot of moms in my world who do this with their children. Are they raising the children they have or the children they imagine they have? The gap between the two is the space where children can play their parents like violins. Parents can't face the truth. They can't ask the questions. Meaningful dialogue may present them with answers to questions they would rather do anything but ask.

But the truth is the truth is the truth. It's not good or bad, it just IS. Far better to operate off of reality than some imagined, projected, desired, or desperately needed misapprehension. But it's harder. Imagined truths are so much more comforting than genuine ones sometimes, it's no wonder that some people live with them almost exclusively. Too hard to face that one's husband is cheating, one's child is using drugs, one's parents are sliding slowly into dementia. Harder by far to admit that years of "work" in global warming are little more than a thinly veiled attempt to control American spending and free choice. Harder than admitting that the expense of American lives has done little to alter the environment of fanaticism and divine deaths in the middle east.

But this is who we are.

Humanity makes decisions from logic, from heart, and from soul. Logos, pathos, and ethos. They are not the same. When they work in concert, they work quite well. When one emerges over the other, the inbalance can wreak havoc.

Balance in all things. Balance and truth.