I
should say we – in our household – are not abnormally flippant and shallow. Far
from it. Intimidating, many think. We come across as kind of serious. People
apologise for swearing when we’re around (hahaha – little do they know).
Occasionally when we’re out and about, random strangers approach us in the
street to observe, “You’re not from here, are you?” Or ask us “Where are you
from?” And we say, “Hastings” and they say “Yes, but where are you really from?” They guess, bizarrely,
Germany or South Africa (why?). I guess we should say “Narnia” and be done with
it, but it seems facetious and impolite. The one I like best is when folk
coming through from the chapel to the flower hall, after I’ve conducted a
funeral, pause in the concrete covered way that looks out onto the fishpond, to
shake my hand and ask, wonderingly, “What are
you?” I’ve often wondered the same thing.
So
anyway, you get the drift – we aren’t airheads.
And
the world is by anyone’s measure in a serious condition. These are somber
times. The UK government tearing up the statute book because they want to frack
under our homes and soak the land with poison. Scientists calculating the human
race has a hundred years left and when it comes to destruction and disaster we
ain’t seen nothing yet. The United States deciding its war habit is going
nowhere in a hurry – got the taste for it and sticking with it. The poles
melting. The ebola virus on the loose. Genocide and misogyny and fundamentalism
and climate change and leaking nuclear reactors and dead oceans and war, war,
war. There’s surely enough going on to make even an unusually moronic zombie
sit up and take notice.
So
then, I wonder this. How does it come about that for such people in such a
world, earrings and shoes, fluffy cardigans and pretty tops are still an
attraction? They are a frequent focus of conversation. Our coffers do not
overflow, but eBay and the 70% sales are of intense interest. And it’s not just
us. I’ve heard it said, in disaster zones, where war has decimated the population,
if they can see to it that traumatised orphans are given a teddy to snuggle and
love, they do better than if they merely had shelter, food and meds.
There
seems to be something in human nature that is soothed and rested by a dose of
the frivolous – and this is healthy, and not to be despised.
9 comments:
"Flippant" and "frivolous" are not words I would generally associate with you. Your observations here- written and not written - are valuable and weighty.
By the way, it's been far too quiet over there at the "Quiet Way". Thinking of you and yours...
:0) It was your gentle prod the other day that made me think, 'I must get over there and write something'! xxx
Well, at the risk of being flippant or, worse, frivolous, I would place a delineator between the fluffy sweaters et. al and the teddy bear. The first is a distraction or possibly denial; the second is nurturing--and less the being given nurturing than the more hardwired, in-Yahweh's-image GIVING from the child of nurturing to the teddy bear. It's sort of the same principle like when they bring pets visiting to nursing homes or have the resident "adopt" plants. Giving "gives" us life. It's the most "godlike" we can be. Am I hopelessly off-the-mark here?
I tend to think that frivolity is a kind of cheap (as in accessible) transcendence. It can be healthy, or quite the opposite, depending on the circumstances.
I very much relate to what you've written, Ember. I think we need softness and beauty and things of no seeming consequence to help us through the hardness and ugliness of what happens in this world. And in our lives. I read recently that staring at the horizon does something healing in the brain and actually elevates the mood, so it's no wonder we all instinctively do that...go to the sea to look out at the water for as long as we can, gaze out across a field or prairie, etc. I wonder sometimes if our desire for "frivolous" things is an unknown but built-in safeguard in our beings to help us through, to balance us out, to keep us from utterly cracking up. :) xoxo
Hi friends - all you say reminds me of something I read a long time ago - an interview with Sheila Cassidy who became the medical doctor for St Luke's Hospice in Plymouth - which I believe was the UK's pioneering hospice. Sheila had herself been through some very traumatic life events - she was held captive and tortured - and her job as hospice MD was both draining and demanding. In the interview, she mentioned that she liked to treat herself to luxuries as a way of balancing up again. Also, that she had no partner and lived alone, and it was a way of bringing comfort and good cheer into her life.
In God's image? Well there's this too then....that while some people go forth fracking and war-mongering and inventing things to destroy this planet (and not doubt others if given the chance) it seems that God keeps right on cranking out millions and billions of flowers and bananas and strawberries and puppies and kittens and chipmunks, all of which certainly brighten my days even if I could theoretically live without them.
I think a God who makes girls and lambs would like a fluffy sweater on a girl as well.
I think if we're frivolous we come by it honestly.
Hello, my friend :0)
I think there is something in here, too, about not being too hard on ourselves, and finding ways to make peace with our mortality - and delighting in life with all its wonder, while we're here. The childish delight at sparkle, texture, colour. xx
Amen, sister!
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