I’ve decided to start a new blog series called Dear God: WTF ?!?
This decision stems from my painful experience trying to write for imaginary “readers" out there, and finding this wholly dissatisfying and somewhat soul crushing. I feel like a narcissist telling her life story in an empty amphitheater. I am not yet good at writing about “what you care about”, so I just write about my own experience. Gotta Take the First Step, as David Whyte says. I’m going to titrate the pain of this failure (though learner and masochist that I am, I’ll also continue that experiment) with some more straight talk. Since no one cares and I’d rather be having these conversations directly with God anyway, I’m just going to go ahead and do that.
The other inspiration is that I am a bit tired of the life-killing impact that forced gratitude, emotional neutrality, and rote positivity can have. Yes - in general, getting those positive grooves going is good for all of us. But denying sad and afraid and confused and angry when they are there is a recipe for depression. Hence this series. I do a lot of thanking — read this post to learn more about me and gratitude. But there’s a place every now and again for a good old fashioned WTF rant.
Side note on “God”: I don’t mean this word in any religious sense, per se. I’m kind of a pantheistic atheist spiritualist, and just like the simplicity of the title. I don’t really have any big explanation for what it actually points at, other than the mysterious unnamable force of life itself. Sometimes it’s comforting for us humans to feel like there’s some rhyme or reason or loving deity floating on a cloud listening to our prayers and complaints. Make of it what you will. Call it “source” or “universe” or “creator” or “does not exist” — whatever floats your boat. I’m going to capitalize on our cultural history of personification and just have some chats with God. It’s like Dear Abby, but I’m not really wanting a reply. You never know though, they say God works in mysterious ways…
Ok. On to the show:
Dear God,
What the Fuck?!? Why sadness? What was that choice all about? I’m pretty sure sometimes that you are more cat than dog — letting humans do sad seems as pointless and cruel as the way a cat toys with a mouse before eating it. Why did you program that one into us? What’s the evolutionary value of sad?
I suck at sad. It makes me feel other things like afraid and angry so I don’t have to feel the big black molasses abyss of sad. Then I also get to feel shame and inadequacy for being unable to hang out with sad.
Did you know that more than 50% of our modern Western population will experience at least one bout of depression in their lifetime? Since none of us actually know how to do sad (or angry, or afraid, for that matter), we hide, deny, dwell, repress, and get stuck in a distorted numb not-feeling of all the pain you sprinkled into our world and our wiring, and take pills to make it go away. I think other cultures at some point in history may have done better. It’s time for a course-correct. Please add this to your trello board.
Love anyway,
Brooking
This decision stems from my painful experience trying to write for imaginary “readers" out there, and finding this wholly dissatisfying and somewhat soul crushing. I feel like a narcissist telling her life story in an empty amphitheater. I am not yet good at writing about “what you care about”, so I just write about my own experience. Gotta Take the First Step, as David Whyte says. I’m going to titrate the pain of this failure (though learner and masochist that I am, I’ll also continue that experiment) with some more straight talk. Since no one cares and I’d rather be having these conversations directly with God anyway, I’m just going to go ahead and do that.
The other inspiration is that I am a bit tired of the life-killing impact that forced gratitude, emotional neutrality, and rote positivity can have. Yes - in general, getting those positive grooves going is good for all of us. But denying sad and afraid and confused and angry when they are there is a recipe for depression. Hence this series. I do a lot of thanking — read this post to learn more about me and gratitude. But there’s a place every now and again for a good old fashioned WTF rant.
Side note on “God”: I don’t mean this word in any religious sense, per se. I’m kind of a pantheistic atheist spiritualist, and just like the simplicity of the title. I don’t really have any big explanation for what it actually points at, other than the mysterious unnamable force of life itself. Sometimes it’s comforting for us humans to feel like there’s some rhyme or reason or loving deity floating on a cloud listening to our prayers and complaints. Make of it what you will. Call it “source” or “universe” or “creator” or “does not exist” — whatever floats your boat. I’m going to capitalize on our cultural history of personification and just have some chats with God. It’s like Dear Abby, but I’m not really wanting a reply. You never know though, they say God works in mysterious ways…
Ok. On to the show:
Dear God,
What the Fuck?!? Why sadness? What was that choice all about? I’m pretty sure sometimes that you are more cat than dog — letting humans do sad seems as pointless and cruel as the way a cat toys with a mouse before eating it. Why did you program that one into us? What’s the evolutionary value of sad?
I suck at sad. It makes me feel other things like afraid and angry so I don’t have to feel the big black molasses abyss of sad. Then I also get to feel shame and inadequacy for being unable to hang out with sad.
Did you know that more than 50% of our modern Western population will experience at least one bout of depression in their lifetime? Since none of us actually know how to do sad (or angry, or afraid, for that matter), we hide, deny, dwell, repress, and get stuck in a distorted numb not-feeling of all the pain you sprinkled into our world and our wiring, and take pills to make it go away. I think other cultures at some point in history may have done better. It’s time for a course-correct. Please add this to your trello board.
Love anyway,
Brooking
RSS Feed