August 11, 2004

• All or Nothing

  Either I was born with a predisposition for extremism, or some part of
  my early development fostered such a trait… or both.  It
  expressed itself as “perfectionism” even in early childhood.  I
  destroyed almost every artwork I ever created (only those my mother
  snatched to save survived) because they were not “perfect”.  I
  rejected clothing if it had a tiny stain, tear or flaw.  When an
  object I treasured was broken or damaged, I grieved rather than try to
  mend it.

  I applied those standards to people, too.  My parents were
  hopelessly flawed, but what could I do?  Foremost, I hated myself
  because my left leg is shorter than the right one and I walk
  funny.  I can’t run without falling down or climb stairs without
  stopping to catch my breath.  All the melanin in my skin comes out
  in spots (freckles) and not an even tan.  My hair, my eyes, my
  hands, my feet, my butt… not a perfect feature in the whole
  package.  Maybe the best thing I was born with was my mind, but as
  soon as I realized that it makes mistakes too, I disparaged it,
  despaired of having anything to feel good about.

  So much of what I encountered seemed perfect at the first, only to
  reveal flaws later on, that I was continually seeking something
  new.  Along the way I was taught that nothing is perfect and I
  came to accept that, but I didn’t stop seeking “better” things.  I
  was always comparing and contrasting, looking for ways in which one
  person or thing was better or worse than another.  I went from
  friend to friend, husband to husband, job to job, town to
  town….   Somehow I always ended up taking this imperfect
  self with me, though.

  My all or nothing style of thinking applied to politics, philosophy and
  religion, too.  I adopted new ones frequently, rejecting the old
  ones with the characteristic zeal of the new convert.  Somewhere
  along the way, my either/or philosophy turned into both/and.  I
  think that change of mindset started with philosophies, when I adopted
  a Chinese-menu belief system:  one from column A, two from column
  B….  I never lost the ability to compare and contrast, nor the
  tendency.  I simply seem to have gained an ability to accept
  ambiguity and relativity, and made a decision to avoid absolutism.

  Some of the people I respect most have absolutist leanings or make
  absolutist statements, but I don’t reject them for it.  The first
  example that comes to mind is Dick Sutphen’s oft-repeated, “Everything
  is Karma, or nothing is.”  That sounds to me a lot like the old
  argument of randomness versus predestination or synchronicity. 
  Some people insist that NOTHING happens randomly, while others are
  equally vehement in claiming that everything is planned out in
  advance.  What is cunning synchronicity to one person is just
  chance coincidence to another.  I don’t see why we cannot in this
  vast universe have all of that.  At least in this finite
  observable universe it appears to me that some things are meant to be,
  some things proceed in an orderly fashion from determinable causes,
  some things happen at random and others are tied together in a web of
  synchronicity.  I have never lost my curiosity about which might
  be which, nor my tendency to try and puzzle it out.  All I’ve lost
  is that deep, intense, anxious caring
  about it all.  I love this universe just the way it is and I
  choose to believe that no matter how things look or feel from my
  limited temporo-spatial perspective, EWOP: everything works out
  perfectly, eventually.

  The latest batch of gluten-free “health muffins” on which I depend for
  breakfast and snacks, just out of the oven, is as near perfect as any
  I’ve baked.  The aroma of fruit and cinnamon is heavenly. 
  The bread has the tang of yogurt and the savor of salt, and all of the
  sweetness is in the little nuggets of raisins and date pieces. 
  I’ve got a couple of weeks of good breakfasts ahead of me… but how
  did I manage to leave one of my oven mitts in there and bake it for
  those extra minutes after I checked the muffins for browning?  Oh,
  well, nobody’s perfect. 
   

  • 3:37 pm
  • 8 Comments