"Fullness of knowledge always means some understanding of the depths of our ingnorance; and that is always conducive to humility and reverence." - Robert Millikan

It’s funny how often we misinterpret things.

I’ve been going through a bit of effort, trying to better understand some basic tenants of Christianity. Not because I’m a believer who wants to delve deeper into my faith, but because I’m not a believer and I want to better understand the intended thought processes, as opposed to the oft preached and rarely practiced versions of so-called Christians.

For example, Mary being a virgin and Jesus being the product of immaculate conception. This has caused great debate, even among Christians.  Catholic dogma insists that Mary was a virgin for her entire life, but then the New Testament discusses Jesus’ siblings (four brothers and at least one sister?) Another discussion revolves around whether Mary was even a virgin in our current sense of the word;  the gospel of Matthew refers to the prophecy in book of Isaiah, which speaks of the birth of the messiah and Isaiah’s prophecy uses the Hebrew word almah in reference to the mother, which means a woman of marrying age who has not yet birthed a child. Yet, Matthew’s gospel then changes and uses the word parthenos, which alters the meaning of the word to someone who has never has sex, and thus changes the story. Even this version wasn’t universally accepted until the Apostles’ Creed, established by the Roman Catholic church in the 2^nd Century.  Interesting how differently we often interpret things, or simply listen to a few basic words and run with them, no?  I’m in no way discounting the belief that Mary was a virgin, but simply calling into question the foundation for such beliefs.

Such foundations also led me to wonder about Jesus’ words (as we know them to be) and the intent behind them.  In Matthew, we read the story of the Sermon on the Mount, and Jesus telling the people "You have heard that it was said, 'Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.' But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also.” (Matthew 5:38-39) The common acceptance of this is that we should allow someone who has hurt us to hurt us again, showing forgiveness and mercy.  But, given a little more research (see Engaging the Powers: Discernment and Resistance in a World of Domination by Walter Wink, or, for you net junkies: www.reenactingtheway.com/blog/turning-the-other-cheek-jesus-peaceful-plan-to-challenge-injustice) it’s not difficult to see that there may be far more this this story – in the time which Jesus lived, it was commonplace for a Roman soldier to backhand someone of a lesser class. As most soldiers were right handed, this means the blow would have landed on the right cheek. So, to turn and offer the left cheek would require a square punch from the right hand, something reserved for equals only. This wasn’t just about forgiveness and keeping retaliation at bay, but also about demanding the respect of being human and an equal.  Jesus didn’t preach of allowing someone to abuse you, or to hurt you repeatedly, but of offering pardon for the offense, while still being strong about your own personal rights. His eloquent speech is that of acting in such a manner that doesn’t incite more problems, but quietly levels the battlefield.

For me, it’s been a journey of so many of my own beliefs and feelings. I tend to live in the world of forgiving those who hurt me. BUT, for so long I’ve simply done so and allowed the mistreatment to continue. This was true for nearly every relationship in my teen years and into my adult life. It wasn’t until my 30s that I truly established a place of requiring that I be treated with respect, while still offering the forgiveness.  I work hard at not being retaliatory and not further fueling the fire when I feel hurt.  I’m far from perfect, and I stumble; it’s often easy to allow myself to let venom drip from my tongue when I’m feeling attacked. ( le Sigh.) But, I still believe in the good. I still feel the urge to let bygones be bygones and move forward. I love fiercely. I love without pretense. I love without reciprocation. And I’m okay with that. However, I’m learning to quietly (and sometimes not so quietly) demand to be treated as the person delivering the blows would choose to be treated. Which doesn’t always go over well.

So, where does this leave me?  More often than not, in disappointment. Because I work so hard to be better, to love harder, to offer greater respect, I have expectations that the actions will be returned.  Is it often said that we will receive back what we put out into the world.  Many of these proverbs even promise our charity will come back tenfold.  So, how am I to take it when my life isn’t an example of this, but rather an exception?

I guess, in the long run, I forgive. It’s what I know. But, does that have to mean submersing myself in the situation again and allowing myself to be vulnerable to being hurt over and over? Where is the limitation? To what end?  If I continue to condone the behavior by being a part of the scenario, am I perpetuating it? And what good does that do either party?

I’m still navigating these waters and I don’t yet have an answer. I’m loyal to a fault, and I know it. Perhaps acknowledging it is enough?

"Living in the modern age, death for virtue is the wage. So it seems in darker hours. Evil wins, kindness cowers." - The Book of Counted Sorrows

In Plato's Phaedo, Socrates defines the misanthrope in relation to his fellow man: "Misanthropy develops when without art one puts complete trust in somebody thinking the man absolutely true and sound and reliable and then a little later discovers him to be bad and unreliable ... and when it happens to someone often ... he ends up ... hating everyone."

I spent a lot of years being rather misanthropic.  And yet, still put myself out there, over and over again. I guess because I’ve never believed that most people are bad at their core. Good people make bad decisions. Good people hurt you. Good people let you down, shatter you, make you question yourself. It’s a sad fact, but human nature is so self-absorbed that this commonality is, well, common. That doesn’t make the people bad, just selfish.

In the vein of being selfish, we tend to wrap ourselves up in this idea of getting to our goal, to reaching the next level, to find happiness around the next corner. I live in suburban hell. I’m surrounded by people who make their goal in life to have the perfect yard, the right car, being super involved in the PTA, competing with the neighbors in nearly everything… And all I see is a group of people working really hard to build this façade of a life while forgetting to live.  I work for my weekends. I am not ashamed of it. I like my job, I enjoy being there, and I’m good at it. But, I love that I do it for a few days, then turn it all off and go play. I refuse to waste that precious time trying to perfect my lawn, making polite conversation with neighbors who don’t actually matter to me, or running from one thing to the next. Today is the only one I get, and I’m not going to miss it while preparing for the next one.

Something compelled me to watch a movie recently. Just a random flick in my Netflix queue, but for an unknown reason, I felt the urge to watch. Stuck In Love is a lovely film very much in the same sort of a vein as Crazy Stupid Love, but is so much better written and acted.  This is a beautiful film which had me hooked from the opening line.  Moments in, one of the lead characters spouts this lovely little monologue, and I felt like I should be taking notes.

“I never enjoy anything. I’m always waiting for whatever’s next. I think everyone’s like that. Living life in fast forward. Never stopping to enjoy the moment. Too busy trying to rush through everything so we can get on with what we are really supposed to be doing with our lives. I get these flashes of brilliant clarity where for a second I stop and I think “Wait, this is it, this is my life. I better slow down and enjoy it because one day we’re all going to end up in the ground and that’ll be it, we’ll be gone”
― Samantha Borgens, Stuck In Love

I’ve done just that. I’ve slowed down and learned to enjoy it. I’m learning to let go of my misanthropic ways and try to believe in the good in people. Sure, I get let down. Sure, people hurt me, make foolish decisions and remind me how I started being that way in the first place. It happens all the time. But, I choose to make a conscious effort at not letting that change me. I choose to live my days in the manner which best suits me, and try not to worry about how to get to the next part.

Stuck In Love is a misanthropist's romance film, encapsulating the world of we bibliophiles. It's lovely and poignant. Poetic. This is, for me, the best love story since Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. This is perfection wrapped up in film.

“The more that you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the more places you'll go.” ― Dr. Seuss, I Can Read With My Eyes Shut!

I research.

The internet is both a blessing and a curse for someone who can’t help but want to know more, want to understand. I love that anything I could possibly want to know is at the tip of my fingertips through a myriad of devices, every single day.  I love that I have the ability to answer questions, define things I don’t yet know, understand intricacies of concepts just outside my knowledge base.

I also hate that I have the ability to always know. Sometimes I hate it because things like bar bets have gone aside, as all anyone has to do is pick up the device in their pocket and get the answer to a simple question which has become the product of wild debate. It’s so much less interesting and fun. I’m also a trivia nerd, so I love simply knowing the answer, and not having that instant gratification of being the person who could Google it fastest.

Even worse, I hate my ability to research the bleak. WebMD is a terrible site. Have the slightest ailment? You’ve got cancer. Every. Single. Time.

But, I digress…

I get lost in rabbit holes of research and my time just disappears. I want to know about a book someone mentioned, so I look it up. Which leads me to researching the author, which leads me to look at other writings, and inevitably another book looks interesting. Which starts a new topic search. Following that, I end up on an endless trail of the idea behind the book, news articles relating, reviews (both public and critic), options for purchase, and counter ideals.

I crave knowledge. I crave understanding. I yearn for answers. So… I research.

Now, this only applies to things which interest me. Something I know nothing about, say, for example, car engines? I don’t one iota about them. I don’t care to know anything about them. You can tell me all about the horsepower, the CC, and spout off numbers, and it’s all Greek to me. You could be completely accurate or totally making numbers up and I’d have no discernment between the two. Not only that, people have attempted to teach me when they’ve been passionate about it. And I don’t listen, nor do I care. So, while I could know about those things, the desire to look them up eludes me.

So, as you can imagine, as medical tests come up, as small tidbits of information flutter to my desk in my daily life in the world of medicine, I can’t help but research. I read, and then read more. I find myself in the depths of medical journals and yet another language that is as foreign to me as Farsi. But, the people around me are all medical professionals. I have a wealth of knowledge at my disposal every day. Which is fabulous. I know more about medicine now than I ever thought I would. I never imagined I’d want to work in this industry, never dreamed that I would find it remotely appealing. Today, I count myself blessed to have, yet again, stumbled into a professional world which is so gratifying.

I get to learn. I get to surround myself with people so much more learned than myself. I get to laugh, and share, and grow with them. I walk into a room of intelligence daily. It’s refreshing.  I count myself blessed.

Do I have the most exciting job? No. The most challenging? No. How about fulfilling? Not even close. I don’t really enjoy my work. It’s… well, it’s beneath me, most days. I’m so much more than I what I do every day. Which can be a bit disheartening. But, why dwell on that?

Instead, as I see it, I get to go to a job I enjoy, surrounded by wonderful, caring people. I get to learn. I get paid to spend time with people I genuinely like, who teach me, who share with me, and who look after me. I get to travel into an amazing city, to do a job for which I’m well paid, and, quite frankly, I’m really very good at.  So, I’m very blessed.

When I first found out I was being considered for a position in the medical field, it was daunting. The learning curve is huge and my knowledge base was nil. BUT, I also loved the challenge. So, I looked into the people I’d be working for, researched the company, read articles on the principles in the organization, learned about the investors, and tried (feebly) to wrap my brain around what, precisely, the business did. Yes, I spent three days in this particular rabbit hole. At the end, I realized one thing – I know NOTHING about this world. So, that told me exactly what I needed to know – I needed to accept the job.

I research. I have to. Stagnancy is as bad for me as for water – it’s toxic. Maybe this is why I feel the overwhelming urge to move every few years? Just a thought.