Such A Big Word For So Common An Occurrence

Part of life, part of maturity, is personal growth. To be sure, we all grow; but for the better of for the worse, who we are and who we will become is in constant development.

I guess I'm learning to mold the person I want to be and the person I should be instead of the person I am. Not to say that I fake a personality or maintain feelings and thoughts that aren't natural. I guess I'd call it becoming the person I know I'm capable of being, or trying to live up to standards I know I'm capable of achieving.

And sometimes I don't like it.

This morning I read an article in the paper by a guy named Rod Dreher. He advocates for of liberal brand of Republicanism: a kind that is comfortable eating organic vegetables, wearing Birkenstocks, and is more concerned with individual and social character than economic success and the gathering of "stuff". Focusing more on the eternal than the temporal.

Aside - On Saturday morning, our doorbell chimed. I thought it was my brother-in-law so I opened the door without checking. Instead, it was a mother and her child passing out a religious tract about Jimi Hendrix's religious beliefs, I guess - it was called The Watchtower. Anyway, she asked me if it was possible to achieve financial success and still maintain one's morality. I offered that it was, not that I have any first hand experiences in the former or a firm grasp on the latter. She just kinda stared at me so I'm not sure if I gave the answer she was looking for. Oh well.

Anyway, this path the author prescribes is one I've been trying to take the past couple of months. Maybe not so much wearing Birkenstocks, but paying more attention to the matters of the soul. Don't get me wrong - I'm not throwing out my iPod anytime soon and moving to an all-nude commune. It's just a more affirmative stance that this world isn't just about me.

Not to say it always works. Oh, you didn't get my invitation yesterday for the pity party I threw on my own behalf? Don't worry. It was a small guest list and the party wasn't that fun.

The previous night, I watched Cat On A Hot Tin Roof (or in a moment of dyslexia last night, Hot on a Cat Tin Roof). That movie always depresses me but causes me to re-evaluate myself and my life.

Williams' play submits that we all spend too much of our time lying; or to put it more nicely, leaning on a figurative crutch and hiding our true identity for social purposes. Maybe not overtly, but in other common ways that become so subtle we over-rely on the crutch and forget how to walk by ourselves.

The term Williams uses to describe this manner of living is rather derogatory and spoken with emphasis to differentiate it with common dishonesty: mendacity.

In context, mendacity is different than saying we didn't take the last brownie when we know very well that we did.

It's the blatant hypocrisy typically played out in the pleasantries of life. Telling even our close friends and family that everything in life is fine when, in fact, everything isn't. Williams even offers that mendacity permeates every relationship we have - even the relationship with ourselves.

Think about it for a while. I know I have. How often do we gloss over our own lives to hide the unpleasant but everpresent truths of life we don't want to admit? I do it all the time, thank you.

If you're familiar with the play, Brick may be the only honest character. Sure, he's an abrasive drunk stuck in a dead-end career and an uncomfortable marriage. But he's come to terms with it and makes proper amends.

Not only does he acknowledge the secrets he's kept hidden for years, he embraces them and isn't concerned with who cares. But at the end, he's the only person to have experienced any growth. He rids himself of his crutch and walks just fine.

But it ain't as easy as it looks.