These poor gifts

I hate it when I’m right.
This is actually true.
The ironic thing for me, as I am trying to learn to let go of my obsessive need to know, to understand; as I’m trying to learn to trust rather than dictate; is that in the little things, and the big things, but always the important things, regardless of size, I always seem to be vindicated. Ok, so there are a few things I’m flat out wrong about: the necessity, or even wisdom, of trying to understand everything, to name an obvious one. But still, there are a lot of little annoying truths out there, things I get, and when my gut tells me something is right, it usually is.
Do you see how this can be a problem? After all, I am coming to understand that it is the very act of imposing my own order onto the universe, it is hubris, not to put too fine a point on it, that is my biggest crime. Actually, in retrospect, that seems funny to me. I’ve been quite… unconcerned about my arrogance for years. I never dreamt there was a sin of pride that I would unknowingly commit.
So, it’s annoying, when I find that my hunches are almost always right, that I have to learn how to ignore my gut, or rather, how not to try to force my intuitions onto the world. How not to demand that the world turn out, as I, in my incredible wisdom, believe it should. I was thinking about this in the shower: my problem has always been that I figured that God had to be at least as smart as me, so he had to see things my way, because that’s how I treated everyone else.
It never occurred to me that I might not be remotely as smart as God.
It was an ironic anti-realization of Kiekegaard’s famous line: “It was intelligence and nothing else that had to be opposed. Presumably that is why I, who had the job, was armed with an immense intelligence.”
I had a vision, earlier. It’s hard to describe, verbally; after all, it was, well, visual. Nonetheless, it captured, I think, a very important, deep truth. I want to try to describe it….
But first. A few months ago, I was speaking with A (my ex). I was asking her if it was wrong to be a misanthrope. She replied (in her charming way) that one had to wonder if Hitler was happy. The point of this was… me trying to address my anger. My deep… dislike of, well, people in general. I’ve been an outsider for so long, and for the beginning unwilling, and somewhere in there it became by choice, that I have long practiced reverse-discrimination and calculated condescension. It dawned on me, back then, that I couldn’t ever really contribute to the world, couldn’t ever truly give of the fruits of my labor and try to “make the world a better place,” if I couldn’t stand its tenants.
I believe that God wants us to give. I believe what we give invariably returns to us, and more importantly, in the act of giving we develop ourselves, spiritually, to become more of what we are supposed to be. The act of giving, if you will, helps transmute us.
The woman I love told me (and not so long ago: I’ve only known her two months) that I was definitely more than just my work. I believe her, of course. But that was a different context. And I definitely think that in some situations, who we are is defined, in an important way, by what our work is, how we do it.
I saw a tesseract. Or perhaps it was a tessellation: at the very least, it was a repeated pattern of geometric shapes stretched over the surface of… something. It wasn’t a face, I think it was a machine: but the underlying structure was trying to move like a face: I think it was trying to make a face. Like an anthropomorphic machine attempting to make a grimace or smile.
As it did so, it assumed a strange shape; and in that strange shape, the geometric patterns on its surface started lining up in specific ways. The effect was to configure the underlying structure into a new shape, one that, perhaps, was always inherent in it, but one that lay obscured until both 1) it tried to transform itself by performing a specific action (i.e. making a face) and in so doing 2) aligned parts of itself that would not, otherwise, have come into contact, in such a way as to facilitate a new function.
As a poor student (more or less) I have always wondered what it was that I could give. I would be willing to give, just tell me WHAT to give, how much. Always for me I have wanted certainty, the easy instructions, the straightforward directions. Finding my own way – well, it’s hard to find your own way when, at bottom, you don’t really think that much of yourself.
Maybe part of stretching into the right shape means finding out the answers for yourself.
More importantly was the fact that I had nothing to give. Until last night, in the shower, I realized that I have never done anything, of “socially redeeming value” with my intellect.
Because I hate the ones who whom I would give.
And hatred prevents you from bending in the right shape.
My ex was right: you can’t hold a grudge and be happy. You can’t try to serve a humanity you cannot stand. And if God has given me a great intellect, then it is just the obvious way to give, to give back to the world, give back to God, the fruits of that intellect’s labor.
I wanted to figure out my purpose in life.
Perhaps it was obvious all along. Even education, however indirect, is service.
I’ve been looking to hard for magic bullet; quick, direct fixes; a one-stop shop for all your spiritual needs! I was never happy that the word effort might mean effort beyond what I was naturally good at. Generosity is very hard for a person who has felt betrayed all his life.
The obvious. The certain. Those are my guides, and where they are absent they are my quests. But what I need to do is give. Give of my talents. I don’t know how but that is almost irrelevant. The important part is that I do give, that I do forgive and stop the hatred and the condescension, and let the giving transform me.
I won’t grow until I give. I won’t give until I learn to love, and let go of hate. I won’t learn to love until I am willing to be wrong, to learn to trust, and let the future be, without me having to control it.
I must learn, and find, a way to freely give of what God has given me.