Whoa, what? I live in the lazy, boring suburbs. I worry about accidentally colliding with one of the ever-present and vapid deer that wander around unfazed by cars, buses, people and dogs of any size. This is not a world in which I have to think about whether Macy’s will install metal detectors in time for the next One-Day Sale.
By stark contrast, I was recently making small talk with someone at work, and I casually dropped in the statement, “Well, as they say, you only live once!” My co-worker, who happens to be Asian, replied nonchalantly, “Actually ... I don’t believe that’s true.”
Again, I thought -- under admittedly different circumstances -- whoa, what? This phrase, “YOLO,” which has become pervasive, even intrusive, has been used to justify everything from skydiving lessons to pricey impulse purchases to third helpings of dessert. And it is so obviously, essentially, terribly … ethnocentric!
These moments -- the Whoa, What? moments -- make me feel like the guy snoozing next to Lake Michigan in that 70s film you probably saw in middle school science class called, “Powers of Ten.” The camera zooms away from him at a rate of 10 meters every 10 seconds, shrinking the man smaller and smaller until he is a teeny tiny speck that is virtually invisible in the middle of the swirling galaxy. These moments make me feel not just small but feeble; silly; impotent; worthless. Stripped of self-importance.
These moments rock my world.
As well they should -- because compared to the universe, I am, in a word, nothing. And to be reminded of this is to be reminded that there is not a single thing I can do that will make me more significant. But I firmly believe there are some things that -- done consistently, purposefully, and mindfully -- may be somewhat significant. These things won’t make me bigger in comparison to the universe; but perhaps they may initiate a pattern of goodness that, if I leave any legacy at all, may resonate behind me as I go -- a ripple of good intention that spreads farther and farther away from me, like a boat’s wake.
To some, the concept of reincarnation might sound like a warning: “Don’t do anything that will make you come back as a slug.” But even for those who don’t believe in it, and are YOLO-ing through life making decisions for the here and now, reincarnation carries an important point. Without getting into the nuances of rebirth -- because I am not an expert by any stretch -- the essence is that each choice leads closer to an ideal. To be pithy, you will eventually reap what you sow.
To be even clearer: choices are important.
But we know, while choices are important, they are rarely simple.
The young man who recently ended his life and the lives of two others made a decision that was rotten with complexity. Since the shooting, it has been determined he struggled with an undiagnosed mental illness. If you’ve ever loved or lived with someone who wrestles with this particular demon, you might understand this man's ability to make reasonable decisions was undermined by an engulfing sense of disorientation. His world was chaotic to its core, and so his viewpoint was skewed. It is true, he chose poorly; but it is also true there were many, many other variables in play.
My suggestion is simply this: Every day, we fold decisions into the paper of our lives such that, in the end, what is left is a small and fragile token. Whether yours is a crane, a lotus flower, or a tiger, it is truly your choice.
Maybe you only live once; or maybe you get more than one chance. Either way, it is essential to recognize that each decision is predicated on the decisions before.
Life is not strictly chaos, though sometimes it certainly feels chaotic. But, like origami, living is an art of making choices, recognizing their consequences, and, ultimately, discovering our own transformation.
XO,
JM
Fro-yolo.
ReplyDeleteThis is some deep-end diving, J. I dig it.