How bout that? The historical-novel lover on the dating site must have seen red flags too, same as I did. After a rapid volley of messages, he stopped writing me.
It's nice when it's mutual--I hate rejecting people.
Our last exchange was him saying he liked orderly theology and me writing back that I liked Oscar Romero.
Archbishop Romero of El Salvador was extremely orderly, in fact. He had what is now called OCD--the Catholic term for this is in religious things is "scrupulosity"--he was in therapy for it.
Romero's thinking was quite rigid. When he changed his mind about the role of the church (from being silent and passive about political misdeed to being active and vocal, emulating Christ), he was just as rigid in his new thinking.
It takes some intense commitment like that to knowingly walk toward martyrdom, as Romero did.
I am not up for martyrdom.
I feel and believe more clearly, even more intensely, these days.
At the same time, I'm more patient, less reactive.
But not always!
I went to a backyard birthday party yesterday after work. I sat at a table with a couple men I didn't know. (Both married, btw :)
I got into an argument with an intense young man about whether or not we can choose to be happy.
[Do native Minnesotans have intense arguments, you may wonder.
Honestly, it's not the norm.
In fact, we weren't natives. The young man was from New Mexico, the son of a Jewish mother from Brooklyn and an Irish Catholic father.
And I'm Sicilian and Scottish--the Godfather + Macbeth.]
He was telling me about his plans for the future--aggressively upbeat. He took the view that you can choose how you respond to reality; you can choose to be happy.
"Well... If you're lucky," I said.
"You have to be optimistic," he said.
Talk about seeing red! This is the biggest matador's cape in my life.
"You said you've studied philosophy," I said. "Then you know that statement is rubbish--it's just a refrigerator magnet. Fine if you're able to choose optimism for yourself, but not everyone can. And you have no right to dictate that to others."
He took umbrage at what he felt was a personal attack--which it was. I react badly to people who say other people should "just choose to be happy".
If you say everyone should make that choice, you're implicitly blaming unhappy people for making bad choices.
This is what I object to most about my auntie's otherwise admirable policy of seeing the upside to everything:
that she thinks other people should too.
She seems unable to understand that not everyone can look on the sunny side, even if they should, which I don't think we all should.
The young man and I went around and around. Finally bink interceded and pointed out that my mother had killed herself.
At first I was angry at bink for saying that--I thought she was playing the pity card for me.
But I calmed down and acknowledged that that informed my understanding of the question:
Not surprisingly, his aggressive happiness was a cover for a lot of doubt and disturbance. I liked him better when he showed that.
Yesterday I wrote that if I had to choose––horrible choice!––I'd prefer someone kind and generous to someone who reads.
After this discussion, I biked away from the birthday party thinking that's probably not true. I don't want to meet this guy again--he's a hot mess--but I'd do well with someone like him who's lived another twenty, thirty years.
It's nice when it's mutual--I hate rejecting people.
Our last exchange was him saying he liked orderly theology and me writing back that I liked Oscar Romero.
Archbishop Romero of El Salvador was extremely orderly, in fact. He had what is now called OCD--the Catholic term for this is in religious things is "scrupulosity"--he was in therapy for it.
Romero's thinking was quite rigid. When he changed his mind about the role of the church (from being silent and passive about political misdeed to being active and vocal, emulating Christ), he was just as rigid in his new thinking.
It takes some intense commitment like that to knowingly walk toward martyrdom, as Romero did.
I am not up for martyrdom.
I feel and believe more clearly, even more intensely, these days.
At the same time, I'm more patient, less reactive.
But not always!
I went to a backyard birthday party yesterday after work. I sat at a table with a couple men I didn't know. (Both married, btw :)
I got into an argument with an intense young man about whether or not we can choose to be happy.
[Do native Minnesotans have intense arguments, you may wonder.
Honestly, it's not the norm.
In fact, we weren't natives. The young man was from New Mexico, the son of a Jewish mother from Brooklyn and an Irish Catholic father.
And I'm Sicilian and Scottish--the Godfather + Macbeth.]
He was telling me about his plans for the future--aggressively upbeat. He took the view that you can choose how you respond to reality; you can choose to be happy.
"Well... If you're lucky," I said.
"You have to be optimistic," he said.
Talk about seeing red! This is the biggest matador's cape in my life.
"You said you've studied philosophy," I said. "Then you know that statement is rubbish--it's just a refrigerator magnet. Fine if you're able to choose optimism for yourself, but not everyone can. And you have no right to dictate that to others."
He took umbrage at what he felt was a personal attack--which it was. I react badly to people who say other people should "just choose to be happy".
If you say everyone should make that choice, you're implicitly blaming unhappy people for making bad choices.
This is what I object to most about my auntie's otherwise admirable policy of seeing the upside to everything:
that she thinks other people should too.
She seems unable to understand that not everyone can look on the sunny side, even if they should, which I don't think we all should.
The young man and I went around and around. Finally bink interceded and pointed out that my mother had killed herself.
At first I was angry at bink for saying that--I thought she was playing the pity card for me.
But I calmed down and acknowledged that that informed my understanding of the question:
If everyone COULD choose to be happy, don't you think they would?It turned into an interesting conversation after that.
Not surprisingly, his aggressive happiness was a cover for a lot of doubt and disturbance. I liked him better when he showed that.
Yesterday I wrote that if I had to choose––horrible choice!––I'd prefer someone kind and generous to someone who reads.
After this discussion, I biked away from the birthday party thinking that's probably not true. I don't want to meet this guy again--he's a hot mess--but I'd do well with someone like him who's lived another twenty, thirty years.
It sounds like he made his statements from a place of naivete. He'll learn soon enough that it's not that simple! (Or at least see more evidence of it in the lives of people around him.)
ReplyDeleteDave is not a reader and I am. It's not a problem for us, generally, but I do sometimes feel bad that I can't recommend books that he'll like and that kind of thing. On the other hand, he's much more into TV and politics than me, and I'm sure he feels the same way -- sorry that I won't appreciate a YouTube political debate the way he does. There are always going to be differences.