In a time of universal deceit — telling the truth is a revolutionary act. —George Orwell
Truth is rarely as pretty or as palpable as we want. Truth is rather brutal and we need to deal with it.
I had a conversation early this morning, before walking the dog, with a friend who is sitting with his father, waiting for him to die. I’ve sat in that chair, where there’s nothing one can do to bring them back or make their exit from this plane of existence more comfortable. Truth is, we’re all going to be there. If we’re not in the chair holding the hand of a parent, we’re the one in  the bed.
I teased elsewhere this morning that I looked in the mirror and realized that I’m too old and too ugly to die young and leave a good-looking corpse. Mirrors force us to face truth in ways we don’t especially enjoy. Truth is often brutal. Perhaps that’s why we  tend to avoid it so much. Try as we may, though, truth catches up with us sooner or later.
An article came across my desk recently, 20 Brutal Truths About Life No One Wants to Admit. While some of the points are a bit redundant (that happens when an editor insists that lists be in conveniently round numbers), the truths he mentions are valid for all of us. We don’t like acknowledging them, to be sure, but if we’re going to get through life with any level of contentedness, we have to deal with things we don’t like.
There’s No Escaping Death
You’re going to die. Your friends are going to die. Everything and everyone around you is going to die. Furthermore, no one controls when that might happen. As much as I like to say I’m going to live long enough to be a pain in the ass to my grandchildren, the truth is I don’t control when I’m going to die. None of us do. I could just as easily step out the back door and be taken out by a random rabid owl. While that scenario isn’t exactly likely, there are far too many things over which we have no control that could cause us to die suddenly and unexpectedly. An unknown space object could come crashing to the earth. Volcanoes could suddenly swallow North America. North Korea.
We don’t deal with the thought of mortality well and that needs to change. Realize that all those awards, the size of your bank account, all those accomplishments don’t mean a damn thing when you’re lying on your death bed. That’s assuming you even get a death bed. There are myriad paths to fatality where you’re alive one moment and not the next. We might think we’re going to die of cancer then get hit by a bus on our way to the clinic.
A lot of people talk about leaving a legacy. A lot of that talk is horseshit. Just because your name is on a half-dozen buildings doesn’t mean anyone actually cares about who you were or that your goals and ideals live on. Charities happily take your money and then, once you’re dead, do what they damn well please with it. If you want your money to do something, do it now.
Do Something That Actually Matters
Hard truth: accumulating wealth doesn’t matter. You don’t take it with you and you can’t really control what happens to it when you’re gone. The best you can hope to do is guide how your money is spent and even that is dubious. Even giving your money away isn’t nearly as impactful as charities like to make you believe. If you really want to make a difference: donate your time. Being hands on with a cause that is important makes much more difference than just giving money.
What we do with our lives, how we spend those waking moments, are what lead us to happiness and fulfillment. Searching for happiness itself is a fruitless effort; you won’t just find it sitting in a cafe somewhere waiting for you . Happiness happens when you do things. Good things. Things that help other people. Things that make a difference to the planet.
Don’t over think everything you do. You can’t be perfect nor can you please everyone. Don’t waste your time telling other people what to do, get in there and do it yourself and let everyone else follow if they want. It is much more important that you set a good example than trying to lead everyone else from the sidelines. If you want to leave a legacy, make it one of achieving what no one thought you could achieve.
Time Matters
Since  any one of us could croak at any minute, that makes every moment in which you’re not dying all the more important. That means, truth be told, you need to set some priorities and start managing the hell out of your life. Love someone? Don’t just tell them, show them. Spend time with the people who mean the most to you. Show them you care. I promise, when they’re lying in a bed dependent upon constant IVs and other assistance in order to exist, it doesn’t matter how fucking busy you thought you were or how important you thought you were being. Nothing matters more than the time you spend with the people you love.
The truth of our mortality also dictates that if you want to do something you’d best get busy doing it now. Don’t wait to ask for permission if you don’t need to. Don’t wait until the timing is more convenient because that never happens. Timing is never convenient. So, if you want to start a family, take the steps necessary to start a family. If you want to learn a language, start talking. If you want to travel, start walking.
One of the biggest mistakes we make is that we sit back and let life happen to us. We are being lazy and stupid when we do that. No one is going to show up at the front door and just hand you a bundle of cash. No one is going to walk up to you on the street and just offer you a dream job. We have to make life happen for ourselves. Otherwise, we look up one day and realize we’re 70 years old and all we’ve done with our lives is wait.
Take It From Someone  Who Failed
At the end of the article I mentioned earlier is a brief video conversation with Bill Bartman. Bill understands the truth about how nasty and ugly and terribly inconvenient things can be. He has had it all and lost every last bit of it. He understands, though, that we don’t let failure stop us from taking risks, living life, and getting things done. So, I’ll leave you with that video. It’s only five and a half minutes, so take the time to watch. Then go. Do. Live.
When The Fairy Tale Ends
Happiness is like those palaces in fairy tales whose gates are guarded by dragons: we must fight in order to conquer it.—Alexandre Dumas
Not every day is a good one, nor should we ever expect them to be.
One of my dear friends, Jane, whose birthday I missed yesterday and who writes a most wonderful blog, frequently reminds her students that the versions of fairy tales they see presented by Disney and the like are not true. When Hans Christian Anderson wrote The Little Mermaid, he justifiably kills his title character at the end; that’s right, the little mermaid dies. In the original telling of Cinderella, the evil stepsisters have their eyes plucked out. The tales penned by the brothers Grimm were bloody, vicious and violent. Why? Because such stories were meant to be cautionary tales, warnings against dangerous, self-centered, and inappropriate behavior. Life is not fair, the stories warn, and happily ever after is a myth.
This week has been a painful reminder of just how unhappy life can be. People we have admired, who have entertained us, who have sacrificed for us, who saved our lives, have passed on. Not just one or two people, as we are rather accustomed to hearing, but several people of some noteworthiness, have left us. Here’s a partial list, in case you weren’t paying attention:
All those people, gone in the span of seven days. There were more, of course. Many died whose names are not so familiar to us. On Friday, a terrorist attack on a Burkina Faso hotel left at least 28 dead, including an American missionary. All around the world, in every hospital in every city, families gathered as loved ones, some old and suffering, some never really having a chance at life, moved on.
So much for a fairy tale with happy endings. This week seems to have gone out of its way to show us that there is no “happily ever after.” Even the lives that seem the most wonderful and glamorous, those who appear to have everything in the world going their way, still die.
What, then, shall we do when the fairy tale is over? When we have run out of tears to cry and are weary from mourning, how do we face this incredibly cruel world? Any good reader should know the answer to that question. When one fairy tale ends, you start another. Tragedy is the platform upon which the foundation of comedy arises. The ending of one story, or one set of stories, prepares us for the beginning of the next.
Yes, it is true that even the next story likely ends with its main character’s demise, but every story is worth the telling. There are lessons to be learned even in the most heart-breaking situations. We do not stop here. We keep going.
I have been distantly following the continuing saga of Cory and Joey Feek, as have millions of others. I’m not going to sit here anre pretend that I was ever a fan. I’m not big into contemporary country music, and until their lives took a tragic turn I’d not even heard of them. Now, it appears that Joey’s story is nearing its end. When it does, headlines will focus on the love of a mother for her daughter, and a husband for his wife, and many will share in their grief. What’s important is that we realize that there is a story that goes onward. Their daughter, Indiana, is just beginning her story, even as her mother’s is ending.
While it is easy to become emeshed in the stories of others, however, we must remember that we are the ones writing our own stories. While our tales may be entertwined with those of others, we are ultimately the authors of our own fates. Even in circumstances where we might not have control of when or how our story ends, we still decide through the way we live and the decisions we make whether our fairy tale is tragic or happy.
2016 seems to be getting off to a very rough start, but perhaps this is this universe telling us that we need to focus more on the future, not the past; that we should focus less on the lives lost and more on those still living. Not that we don’t remember those who have died, but we realize that their passing is but the end of a chapter, not the whole book. The fairy tale is not over. There is so much more to be written and it is up to you to do the writing.
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