In one scene, after the main character has established a clear lucky streak, he invites all his track friends to throw their money in with him. He'll bet it all, inevitably win, and split all the winnings with them. With this last comment, their enthusiasm completely fades and the drift off to the various corners of the bar to continue their incessant drivel about which horse will win, argue strategy over selecting a horse, console each other on their loses, and fuss about their bad luck.
It reminded me of a time when, in practicing law, I was met with client after client who not only expressed a need for help on a specific issue, but who all also complained about the basic totality of their existence. They hated their work, families, wives and husbands, housing, weather, future, past, present, fears, etc... After hearing the same basic story for the third time in a day and the 12th that week, I stopped the story of the man who happened to be in my office at that moment and challenged him to change.
I pointed out that he had been griping and moaning for the last 20 minutes, that I billed by the hour, and that, if his life really sucked that badly, maybe, instead of helping him with the one small aspect which brought him to my office, he'd get the most bang for his buck by following my advice to totally change. I pointed out that he didn't need to stay with his wife or kids, that he could, if he really wanted to, just get in a car and drive away from his house, church, job, boss, etc ... and that, contrary to what he had just been telling me about how stuck he was, he could actually change it all at that very minute if he wanted to. He was in total control if he wanted to be.
If I remember correctly, he actually grabbed his file and stomped out the door. I have mulled over that moment many times since. And watching this movie reminded me of it too. What is it that makes people so capable at delineating every wrong in their miserable existence, but so incapable at seeing their role in the continuation thereof?
What I decided then, and what I continue to believe, is that there is a level at which people like the misery. Actually, it's not so much the misery itself, but the fact that they at least feel something. So much of the average American life can be vanilla that it is very possible to lose the gift of emotion through disuse. It seems we fight against that by diving into that which elicits the strongest feelings and that seems to be pain. It may not be enjoyable to feel pain, but at least you know you are alive. Better to feel something than nothing.
Some years later, I caught up with the guy who had stomped out of my office. While he was more guarded in conversing with me, the basics of his life had not changed and I could find no sign that he had actively tried for any change. In the end, he felt safe in the world he knew even if he hated it.
I also see elements of this in people who try cutting and other physically destructive behaviors. In a world of confusion and frequent boredom, they have found an area which they both control (just as my office guy controlled his environment by not working on any real change) and a way to feel something real. Pain is real and can be a tremendous comfort.
While I point this experience out, I confess that I too have had moments (and may even now) in which I treasured the surge of misery more than the dynamic of change. To those who find themselves relating to this I have absolutely no advice except to state that you are not alone and that you have my full appreciative sympathy. While I would choose otherwise for you, the real choice is yours. However, if there is anything I can do to support the momentum of change, let me know.
In the end, that image of the smoky race-track bar and the same conversations being held over and over holds both humor and horror. This is a call to action. The safety of known pain is not better than the risk of celebration. In those immortal words, let it ride!
No comments:
Post a Comment