Avoiding apathy on my way to acceptance
I have always considered apathy a weak position based on ignorance, selfishness, or cowardice. You didn’t care: either because you didn’t understand, couldn’t be bothered, or were too frightened to act. I believe there was a time in our recent history when this was true, and many of the people who failed to act responsibly in those critical years deserve a great deal of the blame for our current mess. I’m not so sure this remains the case.
We know that there are tipping points in life, past which there is no return, when the momentum of our forward progress demands a continuation of the same, no matter what you do. There must come a time when there’s simply nothing left to do. The die has been cast. The bell has been rung. You’re on the Titanic, and it’s already struck the iceberg. There’s no longer a valid reason to continue complaining about the leaky toilet.
What if apathy were the most sane, human, and logical response to our current predicament? What if being ludicrously at peace in the face of unbeatable odds were the most radical thing we could do to combat the pain? Rome burns, and the band plays on.
I fear this is the main problem with religion, especially any religion that relies on the promise of an afterlife as both the carrot and the stick. If you think this reality is rather inconsequential to your eternal soul, then minimizing the value of this life becomes much easier. Let it all burn. Let her sink. For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world, and forfeit his soul? If you think you’re immortal, what happens to this world is of no real concern.
I believe we have a moral obligation to first do no harm, to not inhibit your fellow man’s life, liberty, or pursuit of happiness. What I’m not so confident about is my obligation to save others from themselves. If I have no moral compunction to save my brother, what is my duty to humanity? Many have posited that human beings might have simply run our evolutionary course, progressing past the point of no return, when we’ve sufficiently destroyed our own habitat, and we’ve now begun to auger in. Do we fret and worry, shouting that the end is nigh? Or do we pick up a fiddle and begin to play?
I don’t have any answers to those questions. I suppose no one does, for as we all may hold strong opinions on the matter, opinions are not answers. I am looking for answers, and seeking the truth might be all we can do. No one said we would find it. It’s the search that drives us.
It’s been seven months or so since I stopped reading the news, and of course, things are going about the way you would expect them to. The downward spiral of a once-impressive country — “great” was never really in the cards — has thrown the world into a tizzy. There really was a global sense of order for a formative period after WWII, with America leading the way. While our leadership has often been suspect and even disastrous at times, at least there was the illusion of order and relative peace.
We seem to be in a state of free fall where things are deteriorating by the day, sometimes by the hour or minute. If the Earth isn’t on fire, it’s flooding or being blown off its moorings. Strongmen and despots are having a moment, and the concept of justice feels about as probable as the Tooth Fairy showing up for cake. I figure at this rate, the seas will boil, and locusts will descend upon the earth sometime in the next few weeks.
It’s hard to watch.
Our local newspaper features a community section called “Spout Off,” whereby local residents send in short comments, suggestions, commendations, and complaints, all of which are then published. This predates social media, but is essentially what social media has become. A repository for all our worry, rage, desire, and dissatisfaction. It seems that most of us use it to warn others about some unique terror we’ve just discovered, only to discover that no one is listening to anyone else. We’re all just Chicken Little, running around in circles, “spouting off” while the sky falls.
There is no reality in which I believe that being well-informed will make you happier. The more you know, you less you understand, and the more frightened you become. I have often wondered how much of my outlook on life is a consequence of my age rather than of global circumstances, but the facts seem pretty incontrovertible. Israel isn’t committing genocide, a generation after almost being wiped out themselves, simply because I’m approaching sixty. The ice shelf isn’t breaking up while the Earth’s supply of fresh water disappears, on account of my many trips to the store. I believe the fear is both real and well-founded. What has changed is my interest in fighting.
I have been a fighter all my life. Not just any fighter, mind you, but a proud one. First into the breach, and all that. I was never reckless, nor was I fearless, but I was determined and I was motivated. Combat-tested soldiers are not without fear. They learn how to control their fear and continue working. This is why their brains end up so fried when they come home. When well-trained, you can push the human body far past its normal breaking point, but not without some pretty dire consequences. It’s going to come back to haunt you. Literally.
I don’t know how many years you get, but I have to believe that fighting uses them up more quickly than more passive activities. If you’re redlining your engine constantly, it’s going to have a dramatic impact, no doubt shortening the life of it. The truth is, I’m tired of fighting, and I’m worried about what it’s done to me.
Apathy is a lack of concern with what’s wrong, whereas acceptance is an understanding and confirmation of reality. At least that’s how I’ve come to look at it. I doubt I could ever manage to be both informed and apathetic at the same time. It’s not in my nature. I am, however, beginning to accept that things are not as I would like them to be and there’s not much I can do about it. Can I move to a place of acceptance without falling into apathy? That’s the real challenge.
I believe that delusion is the central state of being for consciousness. Imagine if a wild animal knew all that there was to know. The infinite threats to life and the fragility of it all. They’d be unable to function, just shaking under a bush somewhere, terrified of the world. Delusion is how we manage fear and continue to function. We tell ourselves that it will get better, that the arc of history bends towards justice, that things will work out, that we will be not just okay, but great again someday. What other choice is there? The alternative is death, which is nothing. Something is always preferable to nothing.
The thing about delusion is, it allows for hope, which is, itself, the unrealistic expectation that good things will happen. Without hope, there’s no point to life, so we can’t abandon hope. Hope is what keeps us going. The problem I find is that too much introspection and analysis leads to hopelessness. It doesn’t pay to know too much.
I’ve heard people talk about taking the psychedelic drug Ayahuasca and discovering all these deep, dark parts of themselves. I don’t see that helping me or anyone else. I don’t care if you want to live our days tripping balls, but I don’t see how that’s going to improve anything. I don’t even want to do a blood test to find out who my ancestors were.
I don’t think people change much over time, not intrinsically. We age, we slow down, we learn a few lessons about life, but mostly we learn how to manage fear. We become more accepting of uncertainty. We stop fighting.
I don’t want to stop fighting because I’m too tired to carry on, and I certainly don’t see a path to victory. I want to stop fighting because I finally recognize the absurdity of standing against the incoming tide.
I don’t have any answers for you. I wish I did. Sadly, I’m just another schmuck over here scribbling away on the cave walls. I’m neither a prophet, a champion, nor a sage. Just one more delusional soul, trying to make it through another pointless day.
Is that enough? I honestly don’t know.
I trust that tomorrow I may feel differently. I will worry about my baseball team’s chances in the fall and whether my clients will raise the money they need to complete the project we’re working on. I’ll think about mowing the lawn and whether I really need a new car. I will go to the doctor and take walks. I will watch what I eat and drink so that I don’t check out before my time. I will dream of fresh peaches and vanilla ice cream.
I will brush my teeth.
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