The Best of All Possible Worlds

One of the very first college classes I took was an introductory philosophy class. It wasn't so much a general survey class, as it was an introduction to Descartes, but one of the concepts from that class that has bothered me very deeply for all of these years is the theory that we live in the best of all possible worlds.

This is the best of all possible worlds?

How can we be living in the best of all possible worlds when all I have to do is look around at all of the wars, famine, violence, child abuse, earth abuse. . . .the list could literally go on for days. So I've never been able to get on board with this philosophical theory, because it's very clear to me that this world is anything but the best of all possible worlds.

About ten years ago I received a book as a gift (The Four Agreements). I read the book when I first received it, thought it was a wonderful idea, but then it sat on my shelves collecting dust ever since. Then several weeks ago the trauma counselor mentioned the book in passing, and when she couldn't recall all four agreements I pulled the book off of the dusty shelf to find the name of the missing agreement. And after I had left a message on her voicemail with the agreement's name, I nearly tossed the book into the thrift store box collecting the sorted and purged pieces of my life, but something nudged me to reread the book instead.

And there it was: Do your best.

The fourth agreement is simply to "Do your best" in all things. Good enough advise, but in the book the author talks about how our best changes from day to day, and sometimes even from minute to minute because our best isn't going to be the same when we're exhausted or sick as when we're healthy and rested. Very profound. Well, profound for me, because this truth (at this point in my journey) is helping me to let go of the need to continually beat myself up for having done less than what I think I "should" have done either here in the present, but mostly about choices that were made in the past.

I contain multitudes.

I have always loved this quote from Walt Whitman, as I contain multitudes, too. I'm not a single entity, as there are all kinds of different "parts" to me (e.g., the concept of inner child , internalized parent, or inner critic are but a few examples of parts). The author also talks about how these different parts actually access and use a specific and unique part of the brain, which is absolutely fascinating to consider.

So, what I experience as my best on any given day is more the sum collection of the best of all of the different parts of me and how well they are able to work together (and clearly some parts are more limited than others. . . .lol). But I'm really doing the absolute best that is possible for me, given all of the limitations that exist within my life, whether that limitation is based on my genetic code, behavioral choices, cognitive belief structure, or damage to the brain from the PTSD. I'm doing the best that I can possibly do.

I live in the best of all possible worlds that exist within my self.

It's the all that catches my eye. Since I contain multitudes, then I also contain a multitude of worlds, because each part has its own specific and unique possible world (if it could function separately from all other parts of me, which isn't possible, of course, but this is the concept). Which means, then, that what I call "me" is actually a collection of all of these possible worlds that are contained within my self. And this is more than just an exercise in philosophy for me, because this truth changes the way that I comprehend the world that I co-create with every other part of God's creations.

Because, if I'm doing the best that I possibly can, then so is everyone else.

This truth is not very easy for me to accept, as I can be just as harsh in my judgment of other people's best as I am with my own. But at the end of the day, what this means is nothing more than this crazy mixed up world that we all co-create together (as the sum collection of each and everyone's best) really is the best of all possible worlds. Not because everyone is making the best choice for the world in each and every choice, because quite honestly we're all running around with our own ideas of what this "best" is supposed to look like. But mostly because everyone is just doing the best that is possible given each person's specific and unique limitations.

So we live in the best of all possible worlds, as the sum collection of everyone's individual best.

And while I still don't understand why some people's "best" includes not-so-random acts of violence against other people, I do have more compassion for the lot of the human race, and particularly for myself because I am harder on myself than anyone else will ever be. But that is changing. . . .slowly. . . .because I am beginning to see that I really am doing the absolute best that I can do.

Perhaps if I can remind myself of this truth often enough, I might actually start to believe it. . . lol.

Want -vs- Don't Want

At my last session, the readjustment counselor asked me the magical question of how I would "want" my life to be. She was trying to get me to look beyond the panic and insomnia, but her question did not have the desired outcome. I immediately shook my head because to ask that kind of question tells me two things: (1) she doesn't have a clue what to do to really help me, and (2) she doesn't have a clue what it's like to live exhausted with panic attacks every day! How would I want my life to be? I would want my life to be panic free and to be able to get a good night's sleep, that's how I would want my life to be.

But I can't have what I want. . . .and therein lies the problem.

So for someone who doesn't have them, I guess they just can't understand what a panic attack is (or understand why that kind of question would be such a slap in my face). Because I can tell you with great certainty that the panic attacks and insomnia aren't behavioral choices that I make. And while I may be able to change the way that I relate to them in my every day life, the panic attacks have hijacked my life. . . .and I certainly can't force myself to sleep. So please don't invalidate the truth of my life by posing a magical fantasy question that I would never be able to bring about. Grrrrr....

However, having said that, something wonderful has happened on the other side of her question.

I have been thinking about my life in terms of what I want, and what I don't want. The cancer I don't want. The panic attacks I don't want. The nightmares I don't want. The insomnia I don't want. But since these parts of my life are not choices that I make in the first place, all that's left is for me to either fight them (or not). . . to accept them (or not). . . .and to do what I can to improve my quality of life in spite of them (or not).  I have no control over these pieces. Period.

If I can't control it, I can't change it.

Powerful words. Especially when I look at how every single part of my life that I don't want boils down to these two categories: (1) the parts of my life that I don't want but do NOT have no power to control or change, and (2) the parts of my life that I don't want and i DO have the power to control and change. And it is this second list that has now sparked my keen interest and motivation, because there is actually a lot of things in my life that I don't want, but I absolutely do have have control over, which also gives me the power to make the choices that will bring about the desired change.

If I can control the choice, then I have the power to change what I don't want into what I do want.

So this is where I am with my very challenging life: it IS a challenging life. Which now means that anything I can do that will help to make my life more enjoyable, to bring about a higher quality of life, then I'm going to do just that. If this is really going to just be what my life is, then I'm not going to make compromises in any other part of my life where I have the ability to change what I don't want into what I DO want.

Which is why I am moving to New England as soon as I have completed this program.

I don't really want to live in Prescott Valley. I chose to move here because it's close to the VA resources that I need, it's close to the community college where I'll be completing this academic program, and it's where this amazingly affordable housing is located. Beyond that there is a very long list of things about this part of the world that I do not want, but I have compromised and have tried to learn to live with them because of the other positives this area offers for me. However. . .the only part of these factors that necessitates that I stay here (temporarily) is the community college piece.

So once I am finished with this program, I will relocate to some place where I want to live, because I'm just no longer willing to compromise on what I really want, especially when there are so many challenging pieces that I do not want, but have to learn how to accept them. Maybe if I had fewer difficult pieces it might be easier to settle for less than I want and compromise, but no more.

No more compromise!

So this is the year where I start transferring as much of my energy away from fighting against what I don't want, and chanelling it into what I do want. Oh, my. . . .it's going to be a very busy year!

A Tumble Weed's Life

Tumble weeds are amazing. They are the only plant that I know of that can disconnect its roots and roll around until they find an environment with enough water to support their life and growth. That's what tumble weeds are doing when they're out rolling around. . . . they're still alive in a state of hibernation,  searching for a better part of the world filled with the utopian hope of a better life once they have found what they're looking for.

I can just imagine what the planter box flowers think of the tumble weeds....lol.

Humans have people who are tumble weeds, too (only they're known by different names, such as gypsy, free spirit, wanderer, irresponsible flake. . .lol). I relate, of course, to the spirit of the tumble weed. And one of the most horrific sights for me is when I find a tumble weed stuck in a fence along side of a road, having been haphazardly blown there with no way of moving on the promised land. . . .stuck and oppressed by the fence of thwarted paths. My heart wrenches and wants to scream out the window, "Cry Freedom!" to the spirit of the stuck little tumble weed.

I guess it's more accurate to say that I over identify with the tumble weed's life. . . .lol.

I have always loved this part of me, the me who can uproot when needed and move on to greener fields on vast and distant shores. I've done it so many times that I don't very much think about it, really. I've uprooted myself with or without a job waiting for me on the other side, with or without knowing even a single person. Sometimes I think my life makes other people around me nervous, but it's my life, and I am mostly OK with it.

Tumble weeds don't have the same needs as planter box flowers.

Planter box flowers are afraid of the lack of a secure structure and uncertain sources of water. But these are not the fears of the tumble weed, as they uproot themselves with great ease to go off in search of the water. No, tumble weeds aren't afraid of uncertain water sources. Tumble weeds are afraid of fences and a civilized progress that boxes up the wide open spaces. And tumble weeds don't really care much about how scruffy other people think they look as they're out rolling around, either.

But there is a dark side to the life of a human tumble weed, and that has to do with the attachments we make with people we find in the environments where we have temporarily rooted ourselves.

I received a letter today from a woman I was friends with about ten years ago, and it was not an easy letter for me to read, as she was quite straight forward and honest about what she thinks about the way that I treated our friendship during a quick series of uprooted searches by my tumble weed spirit. It's no easy thing to read the hard, direct truth of another person when that truth is in response to the me on the other side of her anger and resentment that clearly remains powerful and present in her world.

And even though I know that the choices that I made had to do with me, what I needed to do for me, and had nothing at all to do with her or with any intention on my part of hurting her, the fact remains that she was hurt by the thoughtless and careless way that I treated the friendship. My friendship with this woman became collateral damge on the other side of my need to uproot and roll off in search of what I needed at the time, and that is not an easy truth for me to own. It's even harder for me to feel the truth that this friendship is not the only collateral damage created from a lifestyle of uprooting and searching for a better life.

So, tumble weeds may uproot themselves because they will eventually die if they remain where they are, but this is apparently no comfort for the planter box flowers who get casually left behind. I may have been doing the best that I could do at the time--and I was--but my best wasn't anywhere near as kind or considerate as I wish it had been. Other tumble weeds understand the lifestyle of "uproot and roll," but the planter box flowers do not always understand.

Yes, I have much to learn about how to nurture and maintain my friendships with the planter box flowers I find along my journey.