I have often felt that one of my weaknesses was that I care too much. That sounds like someone in a job interview saying their biggest weakness is that they work too hard. There is no room for humility in the statement, and yet I’m not so sure that people admire caring people so very much. The people who seem to be most liked are those that are happy-go-lucky and always have a cheery disposition. They are the sort of people who are easy to be around and sure to distract you from the rigors of life. No one wants to be around an open wound. And people who care too much are forever fretting about something or someone. In these times (are there really ever carefree times or is Camelot just a myth?) this often takes the form of political activism.
Yesterday, I saw good progress on my play area renovation. From 7:30 – noon my crew finished leveling the new playing field with 3 yards of DG, tamped it down, and put the turf back on. That gets us 90% home on the project and what’s left is up to just me and Handy Brad. By the way, I have been far more tight about our approach working than Mr. Worry-Wart Brad and everything seems fine without all the Handy Brad fussy issues. Kim wanted to go to a Temecula winery for lunch, which we did, and we all went to our new neighbor Joi’s open house, which was nice, but then I needed to go return the rented tamper to Home Depot. On the way there we passed our second corner of the day where Hands-Off protestors were demonstrating. Naturally, I honked and showed support for the resistance cause, but Kim and I were feeling sheepish not to have known about or participated in the effort. We did have the here and now of house guests, but then again, that didn’t stop me from working my morning project while our guests walked the neighborhood. The balance of caring and living life is constantly in play. What to do and how to strike that balance seems more acute at certain moments. The truth is that while people near to us and far away are almost always suffering in some way, and while we perhaps do care, it’s hard to always put those concerns ahead of living life as it’s available to us. In fact, that may be one of the great conundrums of life at any time. We all know we are only as happy as our unhappiest child, but are we only as happy as our unhappiest friend or family member, or for that matter, as the unhappiest Everyman in the world?
We all know people who are very good at staying oblivious. Some people don’t want to travel to places where stray dogs roam the street with hunger in their eyes, but not going there does not make the reality go away, it’s just not in our field of vision and thus our consciousness. But then, we all know that in a cosmic sense, the human race will end at some point, but we force that thought out of mind for the sake of embracing the day or the moment and get what we can from life. Which acceptance and which obliviousness is appropriate? Woody Allen says life is separated between the miserable and the horrible. We should be happy if we are just miserable because there is plenty of horrible out there.
I have been touching base regularly with my friend Steven about his Dad, who has been struggling with his health of late and causing Steven some challenging times as he tries to be the dutiful son to his aged father. My inclination is to worry and care more about Steven than his father, not because I know him better, but because his father is on a path we all must sooner or later travel and unpleasant as it may be, I find it more troubling to see a vital life derailed by obligation and events. I think we all know we must honor our obligations and that life is never carefree, but life is too precious to waste any more than we must. I prefer to see Steven enjoying his impending retirement than stressing as a caregiver.
At the same time I have another friend who is closer in age to Steven’s dad than to Steven and he has recently had some bad health news that compounds on an already troubled health landscape. He does not want to burden his family with all that, but has shared it with me. Obviously I have expressed my sorrow and condolences, but that just doesn’t seem like enough. Should I plan a visit? Should I drop everything to be by his side or is that less helpful than just listening with empathy? I certainly can’t fix it, so didn’t Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus teach us that sometimes just listening is the best fix?
I do care too much and I can’t figure out if any of it helps. I can’t even tell if it helps me to care so much. Does it assuage my guilt or exacerbate it? Does the universe care if I care? It’s really hard to tell. Nature is cruel and somewhat ruthless and isn’t nature the most beautiful part of the universe? Some will suggest that our job is to create as much beauty and happiness in an uncaring world as we can and that worrying solves little, but living well is the best medicine, both for ourselves and those around us. This all sounds like word salad at some point. Rationalizations abound.
I may be reaching new heights of futility. I’m up at night worrying about worrying. My biggest salvation may be my writing because where doing something to make things better may be unproductive or even harmful, writing about it clearly helps me process my caring somewhat and it may even occasionally help others do likewise. The best news is that writing can simultaneously be captured for eternity and cast into the ozone of oblivion, always at the option of the audience. That is why when I am confronted by too many people or things to care about, I always know what to do. When in doubt, write about it. It’s important to both care and not care and writing about it fits perfectly into that space for me. Thank you for listening…or not.