Through these Eyes - novelonlinefull.com
You’re read light novel Through these Eyes Part 36 online at NovelOnlineFull.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit NovelOnlineFull.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
Step carefully, now, For a house never sleeps; Beware of the hallway...
The second plank creaks!
The stairs to the bas.e.m.e.nt Will yawn in dismay At the touch of a stranger Tiptoeing away.
Hush!...not a word Near the southern most vent...
(On revealing one's presence This house is bent!) For an echoing message Will rumble and shout; "Someone is here, Of this there's no doubt!"
Step carefully, now, For a house never sleeps...
Quietly whispering, A vigil it keeps.
Lauren Isaacson January 27, 1981
Change. It seemed too simple to be the cure for depression; nevertheless, a cure it was. Not all changes would be as easy as quitting a job or dropping a cla.s.s; I would not allow myself to be fooled by my relative success regarding the cessation of dieting. Some changes, I realized, would hurt myself and others, and these were the ones that would deal with my freedom. . . my time; they would be the most important changes of my life, and to forever avoid these would lock me in an unhappy state of being. One day I knew they would be faced, for to deprive myself of happiness would be a deprivation of growth, and life without growth would be worse than death. Thus, before growth's stagnation, change.
Mar. 15, 1981... I can live, love and laugh because I have known my emotions; I have experienced ecstasy as well as depression. Serenity, though, lies midway between the high and the low.
I was staring thoughtfully through the windshield. "I think maybe the reason I can't make decisions is because I lack confidence, I guess."
Norm glanced over at me from the driver's seat, his eyebrows punctuating a look of disbelief. "Man," he said, "That's great!"
enjoying the moment to its fullest.
My statement had rolled from my lips with unflinching honesty. It was a gut a.n.a.lysis, a spontaneous reaction that could not be retracted once spun into words. I shook my head. "It's pretty pathetic, isn't it?" I laughed. It became the joke of the month between us, made more humorous by the fact that it was true.
For the most part I was able to enjoy life after quitting my job. My anorexic tendencies slowly disappeared and I turned my attention away from food. School was my only real obligation, and though I applied more pressure to various a.s.signments than perhaps was necessary, I was satisfied with the final results because I knew I had done my best. I found that certain subjects made me come alive with interest, and while self-confidence remained low, confidence in my school work increased rapidly. Occasionally I dueled with guilty qualms when I was indulging in recreational activities because I wondered if I had studied enough.
Rhetorically speaking, however, by what measure and under whose authority is "enough" determined? Norm, more than anyone, helped me to see the necessity of "letting go". . . of saying, "enough!" and turning my back. He felt little obligation which allowed him to do as he wished; when his emotional well-being was at stake, few people could alter his stance. He spent time as, and with whom, he desired. If he chose to be alone, he made sure no one interfered with his intention.
At times Norm's reactions unintentionally hurt the feelings of others, yet his sanity remained intact; he knew his limits, and made certain they were never reached.
I, on the other hand, would plow headlong into a doubtful situation at the expense of my emotional well-being, to avoid hurting another individual's feelings. I would endure intolerable people and ready myself for the asylum, while the person rattled on and thought well of me. After his or her departure, Norm would be responsible for finding a putty knife and sc.r.a.ping me off the ceiling.
It was no secret between me and myself that I despised a fight. I controlled anger with a fervor, frightened that I could not defend my position if the recipient of my vehemence chose to see red. Quite removed from anger, though, I could not even wage a modest war against the persuasive tactics of those who would pirate my wish for solitude or guarantee myself "equal" time in a conversation; if I was not blessed with a fair companion, my desire to spend time alone was rarely respected and my views were seldom heard. How was it possible to say "no" without being hounded until my response was "yes"?. . .or claim my share of the conversation without rudely interrupting with, "shut up!"?...
I hated to hurt people; I once had a hard time hanging up on a prank phone call. Nevertheless, I knew I was still slightly depressed, and until I was able to defeat my lack of aggression, I would continue to be haunted by the weakness and resent those who dexterously wielded the power of persuasion over my head.
During a sociology course based on the family, students were given various choices for extended study beyond those areas covered in the cla.s.sroom discussions and book reading. Because I loved to write, I decided to keep a journal of my personal views on relationships. As I had previously discovered, writing helped me to clarify my emotions in a logical and systematic fashion; knowing this, I looked upon the a.s.signment quite favorably. It had been some time since I had last spilled the contents of my mind onto paper, and an a.s.signment dictating that I do so granted me the time I needed to pursue my beliefs in depth and reflect on personal experiences and observations. This a.s.signment would be no waste of time.
I rarely ventured anywhere without a note pad and pen. When I was enlightened by relevant thoughts or glimpsed feelings that pertained to my journal entries, the note pad would suddenly appear and I would scrawl viciously until I had captured the idea in permanent ink. Soon I possessed a h.o.a.rd of ideas and encapsulated thoughts which would serve to fuel the concepts expressed in the journal itself.
PAGE 181
Essay: Views on Choice
". . . one's self can be either his best friend or in selfishness, his worst enemy."
VIEWS ON CHOICE
The normal human mind is to be used; primarily it allows man to survive. It then allows an immense capacity for growth, and a definition of values toward compatible co-existence. A child grows to adulthood, and similarly, his brain and thoughts are able to mature; he can choose between instinctual selfishness or attempt to view life with a broader scope, thereby improving the world he touches by improving himself. The more the mind grows, the more humble its "master" becomes, for he realizes that knowledge is infinity and infinity cannot be encapsulated in the human brain.
It is not enough to say simply "we are what we are," for although there are certain aspects of one's personality which, I feel, are unchangeable, I must also believe that man has a certain amount of liberty over his actions; yet possessing that mental freedom, man also is capable of perverting both instinctual behavior and societal standards of conduct.
The ideas of right and wrong are generally clarified for each person by his elders when he is yet quite young. Even those with learning disabilities and those who are not severely mentally r.e.t.a.r.ded have the ability to distinguish between socially defined "good" and "bad"
behavior. When children grow into adulthood, it is difficult to view wrongdoing as simply "bad behavior," much less "acceptable"; one has been taught to think, and then to act.
Even when the environmental aspects through one's youth are considered, certainly the expectations of behavior and conduct are taught in the school; the child cannot say he was not aware of the societal rules, despite any lack of respect for those rules in the home. Each individual possesses a mind of his own; he is free to act upon or disregard negative pressure.
Saying evil occurred due to environmental pressures is, perhaps, today's way of avoiding the issue of bad and good behavior, blaming life's circ.u.mstances for immorality, instead of facing the fact that the person made a wrong decision of his own accord. Those who continually blame other people and circ.u.mstances for their personality disturbances gain little respect, for one can choose with whom and in what manner he desires to spend his time. Exceptions shall always exist, yet often a grand problem can be reduced by making select changes in one's life; changes such as a transferal from a tough job situation, or the decision to stop interactions with a "friend" who truly is not a friend. People must be responsible for their own actions, although it is always easier to blame, to utilize a scapegoat.
It is virtual music to the ears to hear someone in this age admit that he has made a mistake or has done a grave disservice to humankind.
The environment argument robs each person of his individuality, for if one cannot be punished for wrongdoing then he cannot be applauded for decent behavior. It would be as if one was a robot, devoid of character, and stripped of choice. Furthermore, the fact that two children from the same environment, indeed, the same home, can grow to be complete opposites in character, subtracts environmental importance regarding one's disposition and life choices. It is not so much the environment as the manner in which one reacts to it that forms one's personality.
There are countless choices in life; whether to lie, or tell the truth, to cheat or be fair; whether to be unresponsive or kind, to give or, like a child, demand constant nurturing. Then, of course, there are degrees of tolerance regarding the enactment of distasteful traits and illegal practices. While a minor may s.n.a.t.c.h a bottle of liquor and proceed to intoxicate himself in the woods behind his house, an adult can legally indulge, yet will then climb into his car and drive haphazardly to his next destination; an under-aged drinker, and a drunk driver...both are illegal, but for me there is no contest as to which is the worse offender since the "adult" drunk is jeopardizing lives with each block he pa.s.ses.
When other crimes are committed, such as ma.s.s slayings and violent attacks upon innocent victims, insanity is often utilized as a way to avoid severe punishment. While certain individuals may well be apart from reality, surely not all of those who claim insanity are, for they knew exactly what they did, as well as the implications and seriousness of the crime.
When an apparently mentally intact adult commits such a brutal violation of the societal code of conduct, it is difficult to rationalize his behavior as acceptable by way of insanity; certainly he exercised a choice, worsened by the fact that he was an adult. He did not use self-control; though he felt murderous, he did not have to act upon his impulse.
If an individual was bound inextricably to a fore-fated disposition by (G.o.d) then his actions would prove nothing as to the man's character...
that is, his inherent ability to choose right over wrong. If G.o.d undertook the creation of a perfectly "good man," in so much that he, the man, was incapable of doing evil, the man could not receive applause for his acts of good will because he essentially had no other choice.
In conversations with my father, he often offered an inquiry for discussion as to which man is essentially the "better" of the following: a non-drinker who, without the slightest twinge of anxiety, refuses a drink, or the alcoholic who, fighting desperately, also refuses a drink as sweat forms upon his brow. My father could always come to the conclusion that the non-drinker was, in essence, the weaker of the two described since he felt no temptation in the first place and could not be congratulated for a decision which created no mental turmoil.
The above a.n.a.logy could be subst.i.tuted in many arenas of human weakness. Though the degree of temptation toward wrong-doing varies among its subjects, I believe the most courage and fort.i.tude of character is demonstrated by those who are able to rule their impulses and seek the road of a clear conscience. A battle won with oneself against injustice will always remain a n.o.ble endeavor; one's self can be either his best friend or in selfishness, his worst enemy. There are times in everyone's life when two or more choices present themselves for inspection; and it is not always easy to choose the ethical course of action, yet for those who are mentally aware of themselves and the people who share their world, there should ideally exist only one choice, the benevolent choice.
It will never be possible for one human to completely judge another's character, and likewise carry out justice on earth. Even if the committers of crimes are punished, justice will not come to the victim who suffered the loss or trauma. The victim's pain can recede, but it cannot be washed away. My mother told me once that when she was a little girl, she thought G.o.d would strike down evil people, and they would one day fall over, dead and benign. It did not take long for her young eyes to see that life was not that way. However, one can, perhaps, derive a small amount of satisfaction from hope vested in "ultimate justice" and the idea that a being far greater than the greatest human is able to detect one's truthfulness and the depth of his knowledge of right and wrong.