paradise

We’re Not Made for Paradise

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Having overindulged in a stimulating activity more than once, I’ve felt the effects of the dopamine withdrawal.  Trivia Crack, aptly named, consumed me for a few weeks as I moved up through the ranks of friends.  The game played to my strengths and it became obsession after a little success.

The chemical rewards system of our body is hijacked by addiction.  For me things will often spiral quickly when exposed to a new stimulant.  Which is the nature of things in the social media and smart phone era, it is not restricted to location, the gratification of desire is instant, and the stigma is not large enough to restrain us.

What gives me new clarity about this is my good intentions for my son.  He loves to be on his tablet, watching TikTok videos, and can do this for hours on end.  Which is fine if his life is to be a consumer rather than a creator.  The problem is there is no need of art or mastery, both of which require some effort end struggle.  His entertainment will come at the expense of ambition.

The reason why I limit his screentime is to keep him directed towards development of talents.  In the ‘real world’ you don’t actually get any where sitting on your butt glued to a screen.  I mean, I do make a living this way, by clicking imaginary objects on a screen that others will fabricate into trusses using wood and metal plates.  Still, this isn’t really as fulfilling as it would seem and certainly isn’t as rewarding as winning a hard fought basketball game after weeks of practice.

Whether by creation in an instant or through generations, the basic systems of our body are designed to seek out those things that we need to survive.  And the rarer that these things are the more desirable they must be because this is what drives us.  Essentially, free will is questionable when so much of our own behavior is governed by impulses we have little control over.  Just try going without food for a day or two and tell me who is really in control of your actions.

The real problem is both excessive supply of things meant to be rare and the artificial replacements.  Eat too much sugar and the results will eventually catch up in the form of weight gain and diabetes.  If you wish to crush a man’s natural desire, the kind that is accompanied by productive behavior, then give him a unending access to sources of pleasure that aren’t tied to any work.

And this is the true sin of pornography and masturbation.  It isn’t so much that seeing the female form and appreciation of those feminine assets is so bad, it is why men get married after all.  However, it is when these things are satisfied in a way that does not produce the end that was intended.  Sexual activity without relationship or commitment is certainly fun and yet equivalent to empty calories.  It doesn’t build anything.

Which leads to the other problem of access and that being diminished returns.  In other words, with the replacements, while killing natural drives, one must do more and more to get the same pleasure.  No, maybe it isn’t good to enter the world always horned out or starved, that has it’s own problems, but some things are meant to be obtained via the traditional path.  Men who always get what they want in life never develop good character.

Which is the paradox.  We dream of having our desires satisfied.  And yet, even if we had the real deal to indulge ourselves to the max, would we be happy?  Was King David content with multiple wives?  Did it prevent him from noticing what other men had and acting out in lust?  The reality is most of us would be lascivious and bloated, like Harvey Weinstein, if we actually had the power to take shortcuts to our paradise.

We are not made to be removed from the limitations of our environment.  But, beyond this, all triumphs are short lived.  The point of our natural desires isn’t to ever lead us to contentment.  If anything, accomplishment of our ultimate goals may be anticlimactic and a disappointment.  That ‘perfect’ girl is going to fart in bed.  She’s not going to look dolled up and sexy like the fantasy version of her suitor’s mind.

As a child I wasn’t much different from my son.  I would draw my ideal world.  And in one of these visions was a bedroom with an automatic pizza making machine and soda fountain.  As an adult, I now know that this would be awesome for a week and not too long after that it would be disgusting.  The same goes for almost anything when piled up in excess.  Value drops with availability, which deprives is of satisfaction.

In the end, a Grand Theft Auto world, or one where we can simply take anything we want and is free of all consequences, would not be wonderful.  This is what went wrong with sexual liberation and dismissal of the moral wisdom passed down.  No, religious authority doesn’t accomplish the balance without wisdom, but it definitely can give a head start to the wise.  We’re not made for heaven—only to strive for it.

Sailing Against Unfavorable (or non-existent) Winds

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On March 30th, 2015, I published a blog, “Sailing Beyond Safe Waters,” to express my determination to go beyond the safe harbor religious tradition and cultural obligation to truly live in faith.

That was when my blog was only viewed by my family and close friends. In the time since my audience grew exponentially and my life took some completely unexpected turns. Perhaps needless to say, I did leave that safe harbor (where some continue their cross harbor pleasure cruises make believing that they’ve entered the ocean of faith) and have charted territories completely new to me.

In the past couple years I’ve experienced the high seas of fear and doubt. There have been those moments of terror and panic too, when the winds howled, threatening to overwhelm the very timbers of my being, and the waves of a hopeless reality crashed hard. But I continued on, determined to break through, clinging to hope, and facing down the impossible.

Then there was that night when the main mast of my determination snapped, my ship of faith had been capsized by a rouge wave, and all seemed lost. The the debris of my dreams lay scattered across a swath of water a mile long and wide. It was the very thing those harbor pilots (who fancy themselves as seafarers for having seen the mouth of the harbor once or twice) had warned me against when had set out. If they cared, their faithless answers were vindicated with my failure.

However, my distress calls did not go unanswered. I was not alone on this ocean and there were those, who had also left their own safe harbors by necessity or choice, as determined to not let my journey end. It was their help that some of the more important items strewn about (things like meaning and purpose) were recovered from the wreakage.

Those on the ocean either know their need of others or they perish in the first big storm that they encounter. It is only in trials and tribulations that you know who your true friends are in a world of imposters. I’ve learned, by sailing beyond safe waters, that it is only the opinions of those who are there for in times of crisis that truly matter.

Finding the wind for your sails…

The time since then has been one of trying to rebuild identity around something more stayed and keeping doing those things that I’ve done right. I’ve been able to do some personal inventory and think of those things that really matter most to me.

My life, all things considered, hasn’t been bad. I have rental property, a great job, freedom to travel, ideas for the future and a precious bhest. That said, despite being enthralled by the beauty of Orthodoxy, it has been difficult to recover that basic faith—the faith that took me out of the safe harbor into the expanse of the deep—and I’m not sure if it is something that can be recovered.

I’ve been towed along by the obligations of life and a commitment to love with the impossible love in particular. I’ve taken the freedom of not having to try to navigate the waters of romance (having basically settled that question) to take on some other challenges. I’ve found that it is much easier for me to take risks now, leading to some small investments and exploring some others.

Still, the bigger pieces of my new life (post-storm) have yet to fall into place. The sails are unfurled on this vessel of faith, a vessel now shared with someone else, but we wait in the doldrums of the present, scrubbing the decks repeatedly (or, rather, doing the dishes and chores for a household of one) while hoping for that favorable wind that will carry us from this purgatory, of a life neither completely here nor fully there, and finally carry us to the paradise over the horizon.

It is important to be ready for when the wind returns, to have the capacity to take full advantage of that moment. The hard part is having the right mentality about the present reality to get to that moment and be ready to be underway—sailing again.