Friday, 15 November 2019

It's All Performance Art 19

There are no guarantees in life.  No promises that we are going to make it from cradle to grave unscathed.  In fact, that is the one and only guarantee in life.  We will suffer.  All of us.  It is going to be inevitable.  When a baby is born, all innocence, purity and completely untouched, unmarked by the world, that must be a mother's greatest fear: the wounds, bruises and eventually the scars and damage the world is going to inflict on her darling.  Just as she herself  has been inflicted and disfigured by life, as has been the baby's father, and as their own parents have suffered.  It is the gift that goes on giving, and there is no getting around this one salient fact of life. 

We are all going to die, and before we die, we are all going to suffer.  Big time.  And we are all going to inflict damage and suffering on others.  It's unavoidable.  This is what happens, with so many damaged beings occupying this sad and sorry earth together.  The younger generation blames their parents for the horrible world they have inherited, that they insist is the fault of their moms and dads.  Right now, the snowflakes (millennials) are making hay out of it as they blast and blame and castigate their own parents for making such a frightful mess of things through their own short-sighted selfishness.  Unaffordable housing?  Blame mom and dad.  Expensive university tuition?  Blame mom and dad.  Global warming?  Guess who.  And the beat goes on.

I acknowledge that my generation is partly responsible for the ills of the world.  I also acknowledge that we inherited from our own parents a very imperfect state of things.  And they inherited a lot of damage from their moms and dads.  It is rather amusing hearing younger people blame us for everything.  That is exactly what we did with our parents, oh, some forty years ago or so.  And in another forty years, guess what's going to happen?  That's right, Gentle Reader!  Those whining, neurasthenically delicate little snowflake millennials are going to have to toughen up and bear it as their own kids start to blame them for the mess they made of everything.   Oh, that will be a sight to behold, and oh the emotional blackmail as mommy and daddy millennials have little neurotic meltdowns because they are just too upset and traumatized by their angry little darlings rage and accusation and blame.  And they are not going to accept responsibility.  partly because this is a generation that refuses to be responsible for their own mistakes (mine was also pretty bad for this, and guess who raised the millennials?), and will simply weep themselves to death for their poor delicate hurt feelings.  Everyone wants to feel good.  So, why face the music?

Why not face the music?  Blaming never got us anywhere, though we still do it, anyway.  I accept that I have also helped make a mess of things, simply by existing as one damaged being among many.  Even if I don't drive a car, and tend to buy very little, and a lot that's second hand, I still occasionally have to use plastic, I can't afford to shop fair trade, and every year I travel by air.  Unforgivable.

We also have it in ourselves to become healers.  But that is a very costly calling that will not require less than everything of us, and I'm not sure how many are ready to drop their smartphones and ipods and go into the wilderness in order to meet God.  I have done this already, and despite being still wounded and damaged, I will voluntarily embrace this call to be a healer and to live redemptively.  Someone has to do it.  And someone has to set the example.  Might as well be me.  Even if I am but a voice in the wilderness.  A flickering, tiny little candle on the windswept moor.. 

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