Friday, August 27, 2021

The Madness of Our World's Addiction to Anger

 


“I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it anymore!”      --from “Network”, 1976 film

Twitter tirades. Facebook fulminations. MSNBC madness. Fox News fury. New York Times nincompoop naming.  A Wall Street Journal jeremiad. CNN cantankerousness.   

Yup. These days it feels like if you are not angry about something in the culture, or very po ’ed about the latest political development or super outraged about the news this morning, well, you are not really alive, right? Not really paying attention because if you were reading about or viewing or listening to the real state of our country and state of our world right now, then of course!

You are mad as hell, and you are not going to take it anymore!

It does seem that the collective temperament temperature of our nation right now, all Creation in fact, is hot, hot, hot, and still rising.  Anti-vaxxers and anti-maskers taking to the streets and loudly shouting down opponents at public protests and school committee meetings.  Pro-vaxxers and pro-maskers shaming the vax reluctant or the vax fearful, that often only stiffens the resolve of those not wanting to get a shot or to mask up.  Republicans upbraiding Democrats as socialist and Democrats pegging Republicans as heartless. 

Take any front-page issue—the fall of Afghanistan or the infrastructure bill still awaiting passage by the Congress or the patchwork of COVID protocols across the country. Then listen to the communal dialogue. I’m right and you are wrong. I’m smart and you are stupid. I’m enlightened and you are dim-witted. I’m on the correct side of history and you are positively prehistoric in your opinions.                

There’s a newly coined term to describe such collective and personal states of mind: “maddiction”, offered by Jeremy E. Sherman, writing in Psychology Today magazine this month.  As he writes, “Maddiction is the addiction to getting mad at others for exhilarating exoneration. The more outraged we are at others, the purer we feel. The purer we feel, the more we assume it's our duty to be outraged at others.”

We know what maddicts look like. Red faced, voices raised, fingers pointed, mouths opened and shouting and spittle flying. We know what maddiction looks like in our current news media universe. Just tune into one of the cable news stations and within minutes you are guaranteed to see a line-up of talking heads, each speaking from their own on-screen box, each either righteously agreeing with the other pundits, or shouting down, and mocking their video enemies. 

It’s not that outrage is always a bad thing. Just since last summer, there have been a slew of events that demand communal and individual response, and sometimes, anger.  The killing of George Floyd and the racism seemingly hardwired into our national DNA. Runaway climate change and the earth burning up. Deadlocked politicians so invested in their own agendas that they fail to have the moral imagination to work for the common good.  And yes, in religions too, like my own, that claim to have a lock on God’s truth and then exclude all “non-believers”.

But here’s the rub. After you’ve satiated your anger by smashing all the dishes against the wall in the kitchen to express just how outraged you are feeling, well, what then?  After the yelling, after the accusations, after the protest, after the diatribe, after the rage. Because if the very next thing you do is move on to the next thing to smash up, the next opponent to verbally crucify, you are probably a maddict. Stuck in a closed loop of anger that only leads to more outrage. And the hope for a solution, for healing, or finding answers to our common problems?

Outrage won’t get us there.

Because if it is all too easy to get outraged, it is all too hard to actually listen to and hear the other. To close one’s mouth and open one’s heart and mind to the opposition. Think of vaccinations. What works better? Showing fury to someone because they refuse to get a COVID vaccine? Calling them backwards or selfish? Or maybe…. how about curiosity? Asking them, “What is keeping you from getting a shot? What more information do you need to make a good decision? How can I support you in getting to a place of trust and acting for the good of all of us, together?”

Faith, spirituality, and ethics work best when these teach us and give us the tools to get to “yes” in a conflict. These remind us we are all children of God, regardless of our viewpoints.  Faith teaches me that when facing into outrage, my own and others’, maybe the first person I need to convict is not the one across the table, but me. I need to look within myself. 

I abhor racism but how do I participate in it? I’m fed up with political gridlock but am I open to finding compromise and consensus across the aisle? I’m worried about climate change but am I driving less and biking or walking or carpooling more?

At some level all of us are a part of the problem of outrage but by reigning in rage and taking a deep breath and stopping to be thoughtful, we can all be a part of reconciliation too.  Working for the greatest good for the greatest number of our fellow human beings.

Still mad as hell?

First, put down the rock. Pick up the olive branch. Have courage and humility and reach out to the one who is the focus of your ire. Then let peace begin with me and let peace begin with you.    

My name’s John and I’m a recovering maddict.

 

 

Monday, August 16, 2021

In Summer 2021: God Knows We Could All Use a Road Trip


“Nothing behind me, everything ahead of me, as is ever so on the road.” --Jack Kerouac, On the Road

Oh, the places you’ll go!

I’ve no idea why I’ve been possessed my whole adult life with wanderlust, a need and desire to get on the road and go, but that is what I crave and enjoy more than just about anything else. To travel and cross over state lines. To explore and get lost in a little town or a big city. To discover serendipitously some out of the way gem: an Iowa diner with amazing blueberry pie, or a Minneapolis bookstore filled with first editions or a roadside historic marker on the exact spot where the first Jell-O factory stood, in the small-town of Leroy, New York.

I’ve just got to get going.

Maybe my road obsession comes about because like other homo sapiens, I’ve got two legs that are designed, not just for standing, but more important, for walking and running and moving and always ahead. Getting from one place to another. Humans were made for the road and so perhaps I’ve got some leftover echo of the hunter gatherer in my DNA and bones, that pushes me to never stay still for very long; to seek out the new, the unexplored, the foreign, that next destination just over the horizon.

Westward ho!

So too, the faith I practice was founded in part by a people who seemed to never stay put, the Hebrews, who in ancient times sought out the Promised Land and eventually, after forty years on the road, finally arrived. Now that’s a road trip! My commitment to forward motion might arise from the immigrant still within me, a spirit bequeathed to me by an Irishman who came over on the boat in 1876 and a French-Canadian who made his way down to Vermont, to find a new life far, far away from his home, in Quebec.

In the summer of 2021, I know my anxiousness to hit the road is absolutely born of the past year and a half of staying put, sitting still, zoning out on endless Zoom meetings, or worse, masking for the big trip of the week to…THE GROCERY STORE! I bought an almost new car in January of 2020 and have put about the same amount of miles on it as the cliche old woman who only drove her vehicle to church on Sundays. In eighteen months, I left Massachusetts just once.

The siren song of the highway calls out to me.

And so very soon I will be on my way, undertaking an epic 3,399 mile plus road trip to visit friends and family in Ithaca and Cleveland and Minneapolis and Cincinnati and Asheville and Baltimore.  Nineteen days.  Seventeen states. Fifty-three hours on the road, not counting the intentional detours to find some roadside antique store or tiny museum or corner post office, so I can mail my postcards to the folks back home.

No. God did not make us to spend the bulk of our lives in just one small corner of God’s amazing Creation. This nation we call home offers up so many amazing things to do and people to see and destinations to visit. At a time when all we seem to focus on from sea to shining sea, is what separates us, I think all of us could use a little travel right now. A road trip to realize it is the diversity of this land, not our sameness, that makes the United States of America such a one-of-a-kind place. Such a beautiful land, and a beautiful citizenry, even with all our current woes.

Where do you want to go? And what is stopping you from hitting the highway and taking a road trip, if only for a weekend, before fall comes knocking on the door? With the delta COVID variant making its nasty way across our country, it’s a better late than never time to travel. Yes, I will be safe and yes, I will put on a mask when conditions call for it, but absolutely I will not sit at home.

No way is COVID ruining my summer road trip.

Wherever life and God and travel take you in the days and weeks ahead, via con Dios. Go with God. Enjoy this land. Get lost to find some place new. Be kind and talk to a stranger and really listen to them. Go to a baseball game. Watch as a small-town parade goes by. In all these ways, and so many more, may you rediscover the joy of the road again.

Gotta go! This is my exit.