I was raised a W.A.S.P. - White, Anglo-Saxon, Protestant. By choice I am agnostic, meaning at its basic I do not believe in organized religion. I have different ideas and notions about faith, spirituality, etc. Does that mean I do not believe in a god? To be frank, I have never been enraptured by the spirit, felt a calling toward faith, etc. But that does not preclude me from believing that there just very well could be a "god," in whatever form they may chose to take. Think how gullible and stupid people are today, and go back a few millennia when that can be coupled with superstition and mysticism. How do we know this "god" was/is not just some superior race or whatever that came to Earth, for good or bad?
That said, at Christmas time I seemingly get caught up in a duality of conscience, as I like to call it. How do I celebrate a holiday based on religious principles, particularly Christianity, and the birth of Jesus Christ? If I do not believe in organized religion, how can I celebrate one of its venerated traditions like Christmas? The question is, do I believe there was a man who lived over 2,000 years ago named Jesus Christ? Yes. Do I believe he had good intentions and ideas? Yes. Do I believe his words and teachings have been manipulated and distorted by organized religion? Yes.
So, in the end, I can celebrate the man while ignoring the minutiae of organized religion. Why? Because, for one thing, I am tired of being cynical of the world. Believing in something - in this case, a man with principles and convictions that transcends all times - just might erode that feeling. One can only hope.
Merry Christmas & Happy New Year.
©2007 Steve Sagarra
René Descartes’ simple yet profound supposition, “I think, therefore I am,” succinctly expresses the idea that the mind directly influences man’s actions. Yet, he believed that at times the reverse can be true, causing a duality in man that goes against rational thought. Thus, to “govern our passions” is not as simple as thinking through them logically, but rather finding a balance between the two that leads to true knowledge. Whether each alone can realize this same end without regard to the other, and to which is the purest means for attaining it, has been a philosophical dilemma for centuries.
Our lives are filled with a constant tug of war between the heart and the mind. We are told to follow our heart, yet cautioned to look before we leap; equally, in spite of the most irrefutable of facts and analysis, intuition can override such rationality. In such a dynamic, the mind will accept intuitive decisions if it seems the logical course to follow. E.E. Cummings, in his poem "Since Feeling Is First,” makes it clear that emotions are the guiding spirit in our lives rather than the mind. “Since feeling is first,” it reads, “who pays any attention to the syntax of things . . . and kisses are a better fate than wisdom.” In Cummings world, ignorance is bliss when it comes to self-expression – even if it means being wrong.
Personal passions often drive many of today’s issues that need rational, thought-out resolutions. As the facts stare us in the face, our minds can tell us one thing and our hearts the exact opposite. Often, it is an uncertainty as to the proper course to follow, and examples abound equally of decisions made contrary to the way reason points and feeling suggests. Many times, we second-guess our decisions at the time or do it in hindsight whenever there is an underlying uncertainty. It is human nature to do so, just as it is to follow through in spite of such reservations.
Passionate zeal, as an emotional state, is unfortunately only temporary, and typically not reliable in the long-term. The reason for its short-term success is motivation toward immediate action. However, the results generated from such depend greatly on emotional sustenance, as a dispassionate attitude leads only to weak action and mediocrity. It is therefore important to think critically on the issues, while maintaining a passion for them, in order to differentiate between a solid argument and absurdity in the call for action – or lack thereof.
Throughout history, leaders and ordinary citizens alike have made both calculated and emotionally driven decisions, with equal success and failure. The conclusion to be drawn is that logic and emotion working in conjunction is simply the start of the process of understanding rather than the end result. Those who lead may succeed by winning hearts and minds, but genuine leadership comes from a balance between the two that guides a leader in making the tough decisions – especially if it is an unpopular, yet correct, one to follow. This is what faces today’s generation as they look to lead the world into the future.
©2007 Steve Sagarra
With concerns about germs and disease, why are bath & body poofs (yes, I used the word "poof") typically in an open bin without any individual protective covering on them? This is something used for cleansing, yet they are vulnerable to sneezes, grimy hands and all sorts of vileness from other shoppers. And unless you do self-checkout, it gets even worse – a conveyor belt potentially ripe with a bouquet of grossness and a cashier fondling your shower accessory with the deftness of a monkey shitting themselves.
The other night while taking a late-evening stroll, I noticed a Walgreens shopping cart sitting in the grass on a hillside. The Walgreens is a block up the road. I wondered how the cart got there, picturing either a person who at first needed it to walk their groceries home deciding otherwise or clandestine cart races at midnight. It evoked a conversation a few weeks ago with Blake, the Walgreens clerk on the night shift.
The cash register drawer stuck. He made an idle comment about it doing the same during a robbery. Only half listening, counting out my money, I did a double take. Turned out a few years past, someone robbed the store during the night shift. Sometimes if I'm bored or can't sleep I'll walk to the Walgreens, being that it is just up the street and 24-hours. I'll perhaps buy a Yoo-hoo or something significantly unneeded. However, I find my late-night "exercise" curbed since that chat.
My point? Like the poofs, we're all vulnerable. It's just a matter of limiting, or even thwarting, the chances for its occurrence.
©2007 Steve Sagarra
