An Expired Box of Condoms

I've talked about this before, but it's kind of swirling around in my mind again. Basically, in regards to most human beings, it's the way that there seems to be an expiration date on everything. This varies wildly from person to person and from subject to subject, but I think it applies to most people, at least in some aspect of their lives. Basically, this "expiration date" is the concept of replenishment, reassurance and affirmation.

For example, like me, *cough* I know there are many women and some men who need to hear "I love you" from their partner, frequently. If a period of time goes by and you don't hear it, a part of you can get anywhere from ansy to fearful (depending on your own level of confidence in the relationship). To hear it, once a week, once a day, whatever, settles you in a sense. The old "I love you" may not be spoiled or gone bad, but it certainly is losing its potency, so instead of curdled milk, it's like an old box of condoms! So, your partner says it again, and the date of the last "I love you," which had expired, is now renewed, and a new date is subconsciously imprinted in your heart.

That's the romanticized version, but it applies to other things.

Note: The condom thing came to mind because when I started at Shop-n-Smile a few weeks ago, one of the first things they ever had me do was go through all the condom boxes, one by one, to make sure there were no expired products on the shelf. I learned a lot!

What about simple gratefulness for life itself? We've all seen or known someone who has had a near-death experience and then comes back full of zest for life. "Live like there's no tomorrow!" people will crow. What's the country song? Live like you were dying? "I went sky-diving...I went rocky mountain climbing..." It's great to see someone charge into life with such joy and enthusiasm. But again, does it last? Has anyone who ever said they were going to live every day like it was their last, then actually gone ahead and done just that for the rest of his or her life? I've wondered about it myself. Even if I maxed out all my credit cards and embarked on some great adventure, my funds would run out in about six days. Then what? It's hard to live life to its fullest when you're broke, I don't care what you say.

When I was in grad school and emerging from my bout with Depression, I remember how I had this personal rule to do something every day that scared me. Now I don't mean like hang glide off of the Grand Canyon, I mean simple things that you wouldn't do just because you were too shy. It could be something simple like asking a stranger for the time, or something a bit more bold, like when I bet my mother $5 that I would lie down in the center of the rotunda of the state capitol building and stare up at the vast ceiling above (which I did, briefly). I loved it, because each day when I finished my mini-quest, I felt such a great thrill, like a shot of adrenaline.

I don't do that anymore. Why? I dunno. Lazy, I guess. The "Do something that scares you every day" scheme expired.

And I can't tell you how many talks I've been to on university campuses, or something I've seen on TV (hello, Dr. Phil!) which have energized and inspired me and made me want to jump out of my chair and take action. But sadly, it never lasts. When I was a freshman in college in a special federal program for "educationally-disadvantaged" students (I still love that term -- it basically means "poor and first-generation college student" or "'targeted' minority"), we were honored to have Cornell West, a well-known scholar and current instructor at Princeton, come to our school to give the opening speech. At the time, I was 18 and had no idea who he was. He gave the most amazing talk about grasping your education and shaking all you could out of it. He strongly suggested that we attend as many of the free talks that are so common to all university campuses as we could. He said, "I'd go to a talk on molecular biology," (he was/is a scholar on religion), "Because I didn't know anything about it. Just to learn something new and interesting." Little ol' me thought that was a genius idea, since I already was into learning about everything. I wanted to follow his advice, I wanted to go to molecular biology and physical therapy and mathematical and religious talks! I was going to start right away!

Well, how many talks on Math do you think I actually attended? That's right, ZERO. In fact, right now at UM there's a Math talk advertised entitled, "Phase-Locking in Electrically Coupled Networks or Cortical Neurons." I don't know shit about what that even means. Will I attend that talk? What do you think?

In undergrad I did attend talks and special lectures, but they all pertained to my degrees. I may have attended one or two others that had some connection to me, but not a single speech originated in the "Hard" Sciences building. So much for the life of inspiration. The expiration date on the inspiration from Dr. West's speech could have been just days. And what's even hypocritical about it, is that I remember (obviously) that speech today and still believe in it and still want to follow his advice. Yet, the only talk I plan to attend in the near future has to do with teaching, which is connected to me. Oh well.

And how many times have you looked at the person you love, and just marveled at how thankful you are for having them in your life, and how you truly want to treat them with dignity, respect, and love. And how you vow to yourself at that moment you will not do (insert psycho behavior here) to them anymore.

And then you fight.

There's just this need in us, as humans, for our love to be constantly reaffirmed, for our inspiration to be constantly replenished, for our ambition to be constantly revitalized. All this great work that is done in the world for "sustainable development," and I can't even sustain it within myself. We become so grateful for what we have, for awhile, maybe around Thanksgiving or Christmas, then that expiration date comes and goes as well. Perhaps that's a good thing, but I've always found it kind of selfish and sad. Why can't we sustain positive, motivational, life-altering feelings and use them to be better people? Why are we this constant source of need? Why do I sound like a whiny philosopher? It's because of my undergrad university! It's their fault!

That's right. I blame the Jesuits.