Tonight my husband and I had dinner with close friends Douglas and Anna* and their adorable two year old daughter. Our conversation was punctuated with a lot of laughter, which is pretty much par for the course with this wonderful family.
At some point during a lively discussion about Facebook and smart phones, Douglas made a comment about technology - "I don't really care what technology I have... I just want to have the same thing that everyone else has. I wouldn't mind going back 300 years to life before electricity, as long as nobody else had it either."
When he said this I immediately thought of the Rapture... which was supposedly meant to arrive for good Christians today at 6pm but never actually occurred.
I thought about how somehow it had been easier for me to mentally process the idea of all of us experiencing mass devastation at once than for me to confront my own individual health crises and fears over the past two years.
Why is it that when you think EVERYONE might lose their lives at the same moment to "ascend" or "descend" together, it isn't that scary or upsetting... but when you think that YOU might lose your health or life while all of your friends and loved ones remain, it's a lot harder to bear?
In the end, I think a lot of my strong emotions around these topics have to do with my internal conception of Fairness and Justice.
This may be a uniquely American thing... my own private Wild West mentality.
"Why Me?" I wondered when my esophagus stopped working a year ago. "It doesn't seem fair! I'm a good person, I deserve a good life!"
Yet when my father died of Alzheimer's disease two years ago, somehow it seemed less unjust. He was 83 years old, he'd lived a good life... and let's face it, a lot of people get Alzheimer's disease. My dad was definitely not alone in his horrific experience. As terrible as it was for all of us, I never felt like Fate had singled my father out.
Why is it that as a society we feel that it is more acceptable for a person to die at the age of eighty than the age of eight? Is it merely because as a collective of humanity, our average lifespan is around 80... so we're more comfortable accepting a death that is typical?
Why is it that I instinctively yearn to participate in the shared ceremonies, life goals and rewards that are valued by my tribe? Why is it that I want what everyone else has? Why have I always yearned to be like everyone else?
I didn't become a mother because I saw the rest of my friends doing it... (we were essentially the first of our group to get pregnant) ~ but I felt SO GOOD fulfilling my appropriate societal role. I was so happy to be "right on track" with my children and my family.
Similarly, why does my husband yearn so ardently to own his own home? What is it with the commonly held societal value for men that he resonates so strongly with - this archetypal desire to own a piece of land?
Douglas was talking tonight about wanting to have access to the same technology that everyone else has. He doesn't need a head start in life but he doesn't want to be at a disadvantage either. He just wants what is "fair", what is "just".
As a mother I've noticed that the urgency of this desire starts at a very young age. My small children become incensed with rage if they feel that someone else has been offered an opportunity unavailable to them.
"Why does HE get to go to school?"
"Why does SHE get a new toy?"
"Why does HE get dessert and I don't?"
Our 23 month old daughter who can barely talk in intelligible sentences grows apoplectic with grief and rage if she feels her elder brothers are being given a treat that she cannot share.
This profound desire to have what others have, to be like them and live a life that is considered good by the rest of the community... it appears to be an innate instinct that we arrive with on this Earth; some implicit part the human experience.
I don't have a brilliant insight into this fundamental facet of human nature tonight. All the same, it makes an interesting concept to examine.
*Names changed to protect the privacy of the parties in question
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