Cynicism

Every so often, I find myself falling prey to cynicism. There's a certain comfort in simply believing that everything in the world and everyone in the world embodies some facet of negativity, or is some physical manifestation of evil. See also, Hobbes. Answers to pressing questions in life are so much simpler if you assume the worst. Personal responsibility, accountability, these ideas are very nearly defenestrated by a world view that sees a sinister motive behind every smiling face.

Sometimes though, the easiest or most comfortable way isn't the best way. Since the dawn of civilization people have said, have written, have taught that we should be good to and do good by one another, trust in one another, have faith in one another. And yes, there is pain that goes hand in hand with betrayal of that trust which rends the fabric of faith asunder. And so we turn to the security blanket that is darkness, wrapping ourselves to be protected from hurt.

I think of the fable about a fox that wants grapes from a vine, and after many attempts fails to procure his treat. They must be sour! he exclaims as he wanders off. Yes, I want to rationalize away any pain, anguish, perhaps even shame, just like the fox. But there will be many other bunches of grapes to come.