el condor pasa

Anne Lamott, on page 187 of Bird by Bird, quotes Violet Weingarten's Intimations of Mortality to ask the burning question: "Is life too short to be taking shit, or is life to short to be minding it?"

This is an urgent question in my life. Family Systems Theory has taught me much about being differentiated, about having a clear sense of self. Assertiveness Experts remind me that standing your ground and clarity in the face of conflict is the only way to get what you want. And those who do not stand somewhere can accomplish nothing. To paraphrase e e cummings: There is some shit we should not eat.

But I also pride myself on my flexibility, on my ability to see the multifaceted beauty of any situation or position. I have been playing Devil's Advocate for so long that I don't always know which side I am on. And this has enriched my experience of life immeasurably by helping me to see a fuller picture of the world. When you can hold multiple contradictory positions in your mind at the same time, I feel like you are getting closer to the mind of God. Too many people are too caught up in their own agendas to ever experience what is actually going on around them. Sometimes you have to let things play.

So, in Lamott's terms, is it better to refuse to take shit, or to refuse to mind it? Life is full of things that are wrong, people who misunderstand, people who fail to appreciate or be generous, ideas that are misdirected. So do you hate the sin and love the sinner? Do you hate the sin and hate the sinner too? Do you find some (possibly sick) way to love the sinner and come to understand and love the sin, too, for its beautiful effitude?

I used to want to be a Buddhist. And Buddhist writings talk a lot about water--the ideal element, which does not take its own shape but always seeks the lowest place. Which assumes the shape of its container. Or the green reed which does not snap in the presence of wind, but bends to stay alive.

At the same time, I don't want to be a doormat for all the aggressive non-Buddhists out there. (And there are not many Buddhists in this country, despite Richard Gere's best efforts.)

So, to ask the question implied by my title: Would I rather be a hammer or a nail?

Tentative answer: I'd rather be clay. Molded by reality, shapable by the stresses of life. Pliable. Yet firm. Able to bear beauty for a while. But deliberately impermanent. Until the fire comes, at least.

What I did eat today: leftover fettuccine alfredo with broccoli and chicken from a can. A hamburger steak. A few bites of my son's Kraft Supermac and Cheese. Water.