Beware Ignorance and Want by Karen S. Wiesner

 

Beware Ignorance and Want

by Karen S. Wiesner

 

 

From A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens:

 They were a boy and girl. Yellow, meagre, ragged, scowling, wolfish; but prostrate, too, in their humility. Where graceful youth should have filled their features out, and touched them with its freshest tints, a stale and shrivelled hand, like that of age, had pinched, and twisted them, and pulled them into shreds. Where angels might have sat enthroned, devils lurked, and glared out menacing. No change, no degradation, no perversion of humanity, in any grade, through all the mysteries of wonderful creation, has monsters half so horrible and dread. 

Scrooge started back, appalled. Having them shown to him in this way, he tried to say they were fine children, but the words choked themselves, rather than be parties to a lie of such enormous magnitude. 

“Spirit! are they yours?” Scrooge could say no more.  

“They are Man’s,” said the Spirit, looking down upon them. “And they cling to me, appealing from their fathers. This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want. Beware them both, and all of their degree, but most of all beware this boy, for on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased. Deny it!” cried the Spirit, stretching out its hand towards the city. “Slander those who tell it ye! Admit it for your factious purposes, and make it worse. And abide the end!”

The cells that make up the body--whether human, animal, or even plant--are countless, diversified, and specialized. There are different types that each do something special, all with the goal of working efficiently with the rest of the cells. In this way, the body can run so smoothly, few of us are even aware of their existence.

Some cells work with larger organisms within the body. For instance, white blood cells subject themselves to the determination of a higher function that assigns it specific duties. At the times when an invader enters the body, the white blood cell rushes toward danger, often forced to sacrifice itself for the sake of the function it serves. Both danger and self-sacrifice are at the heart of its very existence. For the greater good, it does what it has to in order to defend and keep the body alive. 

Cells don't always work "in community" though. For whatever reason, a cell can become selfish and superior, working against the body with every fiber of its being to serve its own ends. A parasite or cancer cell, literally, considers nothing except its own survival and what it needs to thrive. They maintain complete independence of the whole while freely and selfishly partaking in the benefits of being part of the body. These cells leave the body in want, weaker and sickened. 

In a similar way, individual cells that make up a body are like a community. When all are working together in one place, each undeniably functions better--to the best of their ability. Unconditionally, the individuals within the community share in the fruits and privileges of belonging together. Individual parts have no choice about whether they can live or thrive separate from the rest of the body. A hand, a foot, an eye--none of these can live apart from the rest of the body. But, by existing as a coherent team, everyone flourishes. 

Also, like cells, communities don't always exist in harmony. A community at odds keeps all within it divided and at war, shrouded in the ignorance of shunning everything and everyone around them that doesn't fit a limited agenda. 

Charles Dickens' beloved A Christmas Carol goes out of its way to show us that we can't choose a single day of the year to effect changes within a community that will benefit the whole. Social responsibility must be a daily, continuous pursuit. But so often our global body (our community) is ripped apart by self-focus and flavor of the day, hot-button disagreements. Like cancer cells or parasites, these agendas feed off the slightest bit of hate, superiority, ignorance, and want. 

Another universal truth highlighted in A Christmas Carol is that, when everyone is treating everyone else with respect, regardless of natural or preferential diversity, they become "…fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys." Every part that makes up a body is unique and crucial, even if it's unaware of all each does to make the whole better and healthy. All are equal. None are superior. Humility, acceptance, cooperation, and daily goodwill are the only ways for a body and a community to function. 

This time of the year and every other, human beings can learn a lot from the way our own bodies function in the ideal when every part is grateful for the rest. 

Karen Wiesner is an award-winning, multi-genre author of over 150 titles and 16 series.

Visit her website here: https://karenwiesner.weebly.com/

and https://karenwiesner.weebly.com/karens-quill-blog

Find out more about her books and see her art here: http://www.facebook.com/KarenWiesnerAuthor 

Visit her publisher here: https://www.writers-exchange.com/Karen-Wiesner/

Daily Thanksgiving by Karen S. Wiesner

 

Daily Thanksgiving

by Karen S. Wiesner

 

 

“Be curious, not judgmental.” ~Marguerite and Marshall Shearer 

I read something recently about a father who'd lost his young daughter. Coming to terms with his grief brought him to a place where he realized that life is a gift. It's not something that's earned, deserved, or that any of us have a right to. It's just there when we're born. The proof of that estimation is that 1), in life, there's nothing that can't be taken away from us, and that, 2) in death, we can't take anything with us. The appropriate response to a gift is gratitude, even if and when that gift is taken away from us. As I'm sure that devastated dad did, the first (and probably the hundredth) reaction was to give up, roll over, and withdraw. Sometimes we're quick to judge a situation we're in--whether it's a tragedy or a reason to celebrate--without giving time the option of altering our outlook in whatever way it will from one second to another. 

This made me think about just how much we all judge in the course of a single day. We judge things not only negatively, but also positively and somewhere in-between. Judging is helpless, hapless, habitual, and a form of its own kind of hell because it won't ever end unless we try to change what seems ingrained in every living being on this planet. From the moment we wake up until finally exhausted, we fall asleep, we're continuously judging everything inside, outside, and all around us. 

We judge how we're feeling from one moment to the next as if our estimation determines the rest of the day, the rest of the year, or the rest of our lives. (What a testimony for not making quick decisions about anything we're going through!) 

We judge our dreams, our aspirations, what we eat, what we drink, what we read, the state of the weather, our wardrobe, our appearance, our own height and weight and everyone else's, our jobs (or lack therefore) and hobbies, our interactions with other living beings (including loved ones, pets, plants, strangers), our living arrangements, our bank accounts, our exercise or refusal to workout, our politics, our internet connection, our selected news reports and everything else happening in the world. 

We judge ourselves and everyone around us whether a presence is physical, over the phone, via an email, on TV or social media, or through a window to the neighbor's house or the street. 

What would it be like to live life without this kind of constant, relentless, ruthless, impulsive judging that all too often causes us to become mired in something toxic? It's really not even imaginable that we could prevent judging, is it? This activity is as natural to us as breathing. 

One thing within our power to do is realize that life in the sense of everything can be a gift that we didn't earn, we don't deserve, and we don't have a right to. I'm not sure about you, but that's a humbling thought that makes me take a breath and even a step backwards. There's nothing that can't be taken away from us in this life and we can't take anything with us when we die. In this way, is it possible to simply accept things as they come and go and view them all as experiences that shape us, hopefully for the better? Even pain could prove to be a gift if viewed the right way--after all, there's no better way to grow and evolve than with hardships that may wreck or leave us numb but could also refine and renew us. The bitter truth is frequently more welcome and illuminating than sweet deception. Darkness makes us appreciate the balm of light. A bird's eye view of death can close and suffocate us but sometimes it opens the panorama that is and can be life as we know it. 

As humans, we're going to judge. That's a given. But mindfully forcing ourselves to perceive all the gifts we're given from one moment to the next can determine our own attitudes going forward in these minutes that make up our short lives. Find a way to be grateful for the things that make up your day-to-day, including the things you've lost, because all we'll ever have is this time to exist and experience, good and bad, what life has to offer. 

Breakfast cereal may not be a Thanksgiving turkey with all the fixing's, but it's food, you need it to survive, and, hey, you got a whole box of it sitting in your kitchen, maybe even the kind with little marshmallows in it. Not everyone can say that. 

Your job may not be one you've always hoped for, but it's probably better than not having one at all. You may not have chosen to work with those particular people but, don't forget, when COVID was ruling all our lives only a few years ago, we would have been ecstatic to see those same people because it meant we were out in the world, interacting instead of merely surviving in hollow isolation. Our kids wanted to go to school during that time but were forbidden to. I don't know about you, but I never, ever want to go back to the state of a half-life where vital connections could equally mean hope to get through another day or week just as well as cause the spread of something we wouldn't wish on anyone. 

You may have lost something you loved and couldn't hold onto. But it was in your life for however long, and you got to know it and love it. While you're alive, those memories will always be yours, complete with the laughter that now puts tears in your eyes; the fun that, at the time, made it feel like it could never end; and the deep richness of intimacy with another human being that made you feel alive and that you would have said was worth anything (even eventual loss) to have if for only one moment. Remember that. Don't ever let it go. It was a gift, and it was worth anything to hold as long as you did. 

Judging everything is just what we do as human beings. We may or may not have any control of that aspect, but it is within our grasp to find vantage points that allow us to be grateful for the experiences we've been granted all around us, some dressed up in the guise of things we may initially think we don't care for. I encourage you to try to make it through a whole day actively looking for hidden gifts littered all along your path and find a way to see them as boons. Whether or not you actually make it for long, try to extend it into the next day and the next. Daily thanksgiving can grow into a habit. Ritual judging in all its extremes may become the route to finding unexpected treasures that bring profound and enduring joy in an often heartless world. 

Karen Wiesner is an award-winning, multi-genre author of over 150 titles and 16 series.

Visit her website here: https://karenwiesner.weebly.com/

and https://karenwiesner.weebly.com/karens-quill-blog

Find out more about her books and see her art here: http://www.facebook.com/KarenWiesnerAuthor 

Visit her publisher here: https://www.writers-exchange.com/Karen-Wiesner/