I think I only got through about two chapters of Aldous Huxley's Brave New World, but as I remember, he discusses a futuristic time when people are able to choose how to feel- or what feelings to mitigate- simply but taking a colored pill with said properties. And, when sci-fi becomes this reality we are emulating, rather than finding ourselves motivated to avoid its very creation, it scares me. We have been warned by playwrights, authors and others in like professions- professions whose members are notarized for their perceptiveness and intuitive descriptions of the human condition- yet- here we are, right? Recreating the fantasies they warned us about. . . through one prescription at a time.
To be aware of our past trials and to long for future desirables, to yearn for pleasure and remember pain- these are the gifts of our humanity. To try to negate their existence, to numb them is to falsely replenish desire when there is none; to dictate that absence of feeling - or one's ability to articulate its sort, and thus denying to ourselves the very condition that defines us. So, rather than divide our commonality through diagnosis and uniquely treat away the very symptoms of our collective circumstance, why not prescribe recognition of the greater possibility that our existence bears hardship through the mere cognizance of our condition- a shared, and highly contagious experience-- especially when meditated upon in the presence of others. (Well that last clause gives me bit of a little giggle.)
Cheers to you, fellow human conditioners, and never mind the 'script pad, I am with you out there, whoever you are. I too, remember. I too, hope. The struggle is (our)(the)(shared) experience, it is what sets you and all you fellow 'humaners' (apart)(above)(from) all other species. So, why not celebrate our common struggle some and connect through the discomfort, the awareness, the hope.
As my brother just said to me this weekend, "What about you makes you think that your experience is so unique?"
