Those sh*thole places…
That shithole place of pain. Painful memories time has not soothed. Perhaps they cannot be soothed. Physical pain. Pain that medicine cannot banish. Pain that can only be understood by those who have the misfortune of also inhabiting this place. Pain of regret and the further pain or loss those choices generated.
That shithole place of loss. Loss of the people who once brought us joy. Loss of time, loss of dreams, loss of adventure, loss of faith. Loss of rights. Loss of autonomy. Loss of stature. Loss of respect. Loss of dignity. Loss of voice. Loss of fortune. Loss of confidence in correcting life’s losses. Loss of hope.
That shithole place of fear. Fear of a future unknown. Conversely, fear of a future certain to bring pain or loss. Perhaps the feeling is legitimized by past loss or pain…perhaps we fear losing a life that has heretofore been blissfully free of turmoil. Fear that we don’t understand and cannot control the world around us. Fear that we might never understand it. Fear of change…fear that this change could throw us into a place of loss or pain. Secret dread that through our own fear we are teaching terror to others — others who were previously innocent. Fear that our unease not only teaches angst, but in turn creates fear, pain, and loss for others still — that it drives policies, decisions, and a society built around sheltering our fears. Fear that a society built on fear is no longer a society worth defending. Is shame found in the place of pain or the place of loss? We wonder.
It’s true, some of life’s wrongs cannot be righted. Some shitholes are vacuums. Once sucked in, there will be no return. For those who are there, one can only offer compassion and wishes for compartmentalization for moments of respite.
Fear, thankfully, is transient. If we are in a place of fear, we must find a ladder out of that shithole and start climbing. This emergency exit is likely to come in the form of education, information, and empowerment, so my starting suggestions include a history book and a subscription to National Geographic. (But part of the empowerment is each of us figuring it out for ourselves, so you do you.) Let’s not, however, fool ourselves into thinking an escape that in turn generates more fear or isolation on a societal level is anything more than a trapdoor. We will find ourselves deeper in shit than we thought possible…and it will be all the harder to climb out.
Yet climb we must. Climb toward those places that broaden our horizons, our sources of joy, our depths of knowledge, and our capacity for grace. Climb towards a future that reflects values we can defend and a legacy we can be proud of. Climb towards a future that is in fact a future for those to come.
My husband and I are expecting our first child in May and I especially climb for this baby. (Him? Her? Love a good surprise.) I want them to see the world as harboring unlimited potential and opportunity for adventure. Like any parent, new or seasoned, I fervently wish for them to avoid shithole places. Of course, much of life is a gamble, and my powers to inoculate against pain or loss are limited, uncomfortable as that is to say about a now perfectly sheltered 24-week fetus. But I will try my damnedest to fortify against the place of fear. So! We will be doing a lot of exploring, whether through travel, books, food, actual human connections, or our imaginations. Know any great board books set in Haiti or somewhere in Africa?
Actually, put that request on the back burner. Any kids’ versions of Hillbilly Elegy out there? Because right now I feel infinitely better able to explain and defend many actions and values abroad than I do in our government or heartland…
