Lost and Profound

“What Paul says about Peter tells us more about Paul than about Peter.” (Baruch Spinoza, 1632--1677)

“There are no facts, only interpretations.”  (Friedrich Nietzsche, 1844--1900)

“. . . the philosophy which is so important in each of us is not a technical matter; it is our more or less dumb sense of what life honestly and deeply means.”  (William James, 1842—1910)

 

I enjoy philosophy, thinking about “what life honestly and deeply means.”  Recently, I have read biographies about two philosophers that intrigue me, Spinoza and Nietzsche.

On the surface they seem to have little in common.  Two centuries separated their lives.  Spinoza lived in the Netherlands, Nietzsche in Germany.  Spinoza was born and raised with a traditional Jewish education.  Nietzsche’s father was a Lutheran pastor.  Temperamentally, they were quite different.  Spinoza lived a quiet, modest life of contemplation.  Nietzsche was a wanderer, often tormented by a plethora of physical ailments.  Spinoza declared that his philosophic task was to seek a path escaping the ‘human bondage’ of unwanted emotions while finding sustainable happiness through reason.  Nietzsche approached the trials and torments of existence as our fate to embrace, amor fati . . . and to rise above. We must transcend suffering in order to be the overcoming person, the ubermensch.

Though in many ways different, there are similarities. Both Spinoza and Nietzsche rejected their religious upbringings.  Both were harshly critical of established religious institutions.  Both questioned the nature and existence of God.

For Spinoza, there was no personal God.  God does not observe, judge, or intervene in the world.  For Spinoza, God is nature and the world, and we exist within God.  Spinoza was a rationalist, meaning he believed that for everything in the world there is an explanation.  Our human capacity to explain is finite and limited.  God alone encompasses the totality of order and rationality. Spinoza believed that morality can be discerned within the logic of nature.  Skipping the many intermediate steps that led him to his conclusions, I can report that Spinoza advocated for a society that cares for those in need, a religiously tolerant society, and a society that protects free thought.

Nietzsche famously announced, “God is dead,” meaning that we, who in our need had once created God, had now outgrown and killed God.  Whereas before, the belief in God was the basis of traditional morality, we were now adrift, both compelled and free to define a new morality. Nietzsche’s focus was not political.  He disdained nationalism.  His interest focused on the individual’s capacity to overcome, to rise above the ordinary, achieve greatness, and say yes to life.

I was talking to my wife about Spinoza and Nietzsche, trying to explain their philosophic systems.  She immediately wanted to know more about their lives.  Did they marry?  Did they have children?  No . . . neither of them ever married or had children.  She thought both of them sounded somewhat narcissistic and self-serving. She found it ironic that two men, uncommitted in relationships, detached from children, and professing to know about God, should presume to understand “what life honestly and deeply means.”  I think she heard their stories and judged them to be more lost than profound.

 

Money

 “There are only two things wrong with money:  too much or too little.”  (Charles Bukowski, 1920-1994)

Growing up, I had no allowance.  I was not paid for grades or chores.  Those were expected.  My parents were not wealthy, but money for expenses was generally available to me as long as requests were reasonable. I don’t remember my parents ever using money as a means to threaten, to punish, or to reward.

I was expected to work hard at school and get good grades, but as long as I was working hard at school, I was not expected to be earning money. I was expected to work during the summer, but how much I made was not an issue, so I was able to work at low-paying summer-camp jobs.

In my office conversations with parents, about their children and money, I usually heard more questions than I had answers.  Parents wanted to know. Should children have allowances?  If so, beginning at what age?  How much?  To be used for what expenses?  Should allowances be given automatically or should allowances be earned?  Should children be paid for doing household chores?  Should children be paid for getting good grades?  Should allowances be withheld for poor grades, not doing chores and breaking rules? At what age should children get jobs?  Should children work during the school year?  Should parents continue to provide financial support for children 18 and older?  If so, for how long and under what circumstances?

As psychiatrists often do, I typically responded to these questions by asking more questions.  How were the parents helping to prepare their child for the future and eventual emancipation? What did the parents want their child to know and understand about money?  I didn’t feel strongly, one way or another about allowances, but I did feel strongly that money should not be used coercively, to threaten or to punish.  When a teenager was doing poorly and not working hard in school, I would tell parents that it was time for their child to get a job and start earning some money.  Conversely, if a child was working hard in school, I encouraged parents to be as supportive as possible of their child’s education.

Now I come to the point in this blog where I get stuck.  I've already spent many hours writing and rewriting the ‘so what’ of this article.  I know this is an important topic. Money is undoubtedly a critical piece of well-being, yet the genre of parenting manuals offers little guidance. Children need to enter into the adult world prepared to earn and manage money.  But somehow, this seems to me to miss a more important point. Children also need to enter into the adult world with the right attitude towards money.

Money, too much or too little, can effect self-esteem.  Money, too much or too little, can bring out the worst in us, becoming the catalyst that fuels envy and greed. It is important to earn money, but how do we teach children that it is important not to obsess about money?  What is enough money and what is too much? How do we teach children to value money but not to worship money? How do we teach children to balance the necessity of earning, with generosity of giving?  How do we, as adults, model for our children what we try to teach?

So many questions. I'm still trying to figure it out.

12 Months of Covid

Eerie, unreal, crazy . . .  one year ago those were my words to describe the abrupt and unanticipated changes that occurred early in the pandemic.  Now, what was once hard to fathom has become a way of life.  Problem is, what has become a way of life is about to change.  With the change, I must again recalibrate what is safe and what is unsafe, what precautions remain necessary, and what precautions are no longer required.

I’ve gotten my two doses of the Pfizer vaccine.  Easy enough.  No side effects.  Not even a sore arm.  I’ll trust the scientists and assume the vaccine will protect me from any significant Covid-caused disease.

I am venturing out a bit.  I have been in a couple of stores to buy clothes.  I have taken the cars into the shop.  I have browsed the bookstore.  I now go into the grocery store.  My wife just gave me my final home haircut.  Through this past year she did a commendable job, but next month it's back to my barber.

I expect to do some limited travelling in April to visit family. The CDC has just given the okay to hug the grandchildren.

I thought that getting out and going into stores would feel liberating.  Instead, it has been a bit of a letdown.  I go into the stores wearing a mask and sanitizing my hands. I notice that inventories seem low. I realize that there is still a long way to go before life is ‘normal’. I wish otherwise, but the pandemic is not over.

I am not yet ready to eat inside of a restaurant, but drive-throughs and outside dining are now possibilities.  I suppose, when I get back together with friends there will be few handshakes and we will sit farther apart.  I miss live theater and concerts, but it will probably be a while before I’ll venture into a large and confined crowd of people.  An Alaskan cruise used to be on my bucket list. That won’t be happening any time soon.

I have acquired some behaviors during the pandemic that I expect will continue. For now, I will continue to wear a mask in public buildings. I will continue to regularly wash and sanitize my hands.  I will continue to carefully wash fresh produce. I will continue to Zoom, to bank on-line, and to shop on Amazon.

Some pandemic inspired behaviors I will gladly discontinue.  No more hoarding paper towel and toilet paper. No more obsessively watching the daily Covid news.  No more jigsaw puzzles (at least for a while).

It was 70 degrees outside today and sunny.  I took a long walk through the park. Most everyone I passed smiled and said hello. The playground was filled with children.  My first reaction was a small gasp.  Children have not yet returned safely to school, yet here were so many children without masks, crowded together, sharing playground equipment.  They were running about, laughing, playing and for a fleeting moment life seemed wonderfully back to normal.

Pollyanna-ish

“When you look for the bad, expecting it, you will get it.” (from Pollyanna, by Eleanor Porter, 1913)

Is it just me, or is it really annoying when someone feels compelled to point out the good in a bad situation?  The economy is wrecked.  More than 500,000 Americans are dead from Covid.  A large minority of Americans still believe in conspiratorial fairy tales while simultaneously confusing fascism for democracy. And, oh yes, despite the deniers of climate change, the weather continues wreaking its destructive fury. Still, on occasion, I read an article or watch a piece on T.V. trying to make lemons into lemonade, showing the good that has come out of the turmoil of 2020. It’s so pollyannaish . . . which leads me to the topic of this blog.

Due to the pandemic and our quarantined lifestyle, my wife and I often spend evenings at home trying to find shows to watch.  One night, in search of something light and nostalgic, we watched the 1960 Disney movie Pollyanna, an adaptation of a novel by the same name, written by Eleanor Porter and published in 1913.

The story is of an orphan, Pollyanna, who moves to a small town to live with her rich, but dour aunt. Pollyanna has an indomitably optimistic spirit. No matter how bad the circumstances, she looks for something to be glad about.  This “Glad Game” was taught to her by her father as a way to cope with hardship. Not only does Pollyanna apply the Glad Game to her own life, but she teaches the game to several unhappy people in the town. Subsequently, these once grumpy people become loving and content. Thanks to Pollyanna, the town is transformed into a caring community. Ultimately, Pollyanna's optimism is put to the test when she has an accident and can no longer walk. She becomes depressed, but the town rallies to her side. They remind her of the gladness she has brought to the community and her optimistic spirit is renewed.

Released in 1960, reflecting the optimism and naivety of the 50’s, the spirit of Pollyanna didn’t resonate well into the 60’s. With the assassinations JFK, Robert Kennedy, and Martin Luther King, with the Viet Nam war, Watergate, and racial unrest, the nation was no longer so optimistic or naïve.  To be a Pollyanna was pejorative. It implied a deaf ear and indifferent attitude toward the plight of the disenfranchised.  It implied a blind trust in leaders that had led badly. A Pollyanna was more than just an optimist who saw the glass half-full. A Pollyanna insisted the glass was perfect and contained just the perfect amount of liquid, despite all the cracks and leaks.

No one would ever accuse me of being a Pollyanna.  But neither do I want to be too hard on those who might lean a bit towards the pollyannaish.  There may be an occasional time and place for the Glad Game.  After all, with the pandemic, I am glad to have had so many evenings alone with my wife, watching movies and having our conversations.  And, but for the mess that was 2020, I might not be so glad that its now 2021.