When I was a kid my mom kept this chocolate in the top cabinet above where I could reach. It was up with all the medicine so I knew I wasn’t supposed to have it, but I never understood why. My six year old mind must have decided that it was my mom’s secret stash of really good chocolate, so good that it needed its own hiding place. Just putting it on top of the refrigerator like she usually did with our Halloween candy wouldn’t cut it. Intrigued, I would climb up on a chair, stand on the counter, and then pilfer pieces of what I thought was the world’s best chocolate.
I’m not sure how long this went on and I don’t even remember how I got caught, but I do remember my mom explaining to me that I couldn’t eat that chocolate because it was chocolate and medicine. I had been sucking down our family’s supply of Ex Lax Chocolate. Why on earth a company would make a chocolate product to help you poop…well that’s beside the point. I mean the problems with associating chocolate and pooping are just too obvious to really discuss. My point is that was probably the first time I realized the duality of things; I had discovered the possibility that a thing can be both itself and its opposite at the same time. The idea that this chocolate could be both candy and medicine (which, at that point in my life, were opposites) was an earth-shattering realization. Suddenly, nothing was safe; nothing was as it seemed.
And the seed of cynicism was planted in my six year old brain…because of Ex Lax.
The sad and strangely comforting reality is that no matter how old I get or how much I learn, there are some emotional responses that I just can’t seem to grow out of. Despite my cynicism that has continued to flourish and grow since the day I ate the crap-chocolate, I am still shaken to the core when I realize the duality of something or someone that I’ve grown to care about. I don’t know why because I am very aware of the dichotomy that exists in all people and in all things (thank you Emily Dickinson for that). And it has to be that way because no one would understand what good is if they didn’t understand bad. We wouldn’t be able to recognize pleasure if we had not, at one time, known pain. I am aware that people and things are made up of tragedy and comedy, good and bad, positive and negative. People that have the ability to make me smile are also going to have the ability to make me cry. If I was still six years old, they would be both candy and medicine. And just like my mom's secret chocolate stash, this realization tends to make me feel a little bit queasy.
I don’t know if I want to grow out of this horrible disappointment that I experience every time I find out something or someone is not what I wanted it to be or what it originally presented itself to be. The realization of this dichotomy will hopefully be enough to keep me from devastation when the truth inevitably reveals itself every time. I think this has been on my mind because lately I’ve found myself putting up walls with people and new things because of this unavoidable realization looming in the distance. Protecting myself from the oncoming storm might be safe, but it keeps me inside more and more. If I give in and approach life with the knowledge that everything, at some point, is going to disappoint me, I will truly be a cynic and I don’t think I can handle that. At least now my cynicism is rooted in idealistic soil which stupidly and beautifully gives people the benefit of the doubt.
What I’m worried about now is the erosion that seems to be taking place every time I'm disappointed.
"Water, is taught by thirst.
Land -- by the Oceans passed.
Transport -- by throe --
Peace -- by its battles told --
Love, by Memorial Mold --
Birds, by the Snow."
Emily Dickinson
I’m not sure how long this went on and I don’t even remember how I got caught, but I do remember my mom explaining to me that I couldn’t eat that chocolate because it was chocolate and medicine. I had been sucking down our family’s supply of Ex Lax Chocolate. Why on earth a company would make a chocolate product to help you poop…well that’s beside the point. I mean the problems with associating chocolate and pooping are just too obvious to really discuss. My point is that was probably the first time I realized the duality of things; I had discovered the possibility that a thing can be both itself and its opposite at the same time. The idea that this chocolate could be both candy and medicine (which, at that point in my life, were opposites) was an earth-shattering realization. Suddenly, nothing was safe; nothing was as it seemed.
And the seed of cynicism was planted in my six year old brain…because of Ex Lax.
The sad and strangely comforting reality is that no matter how old I get or how much I learn, there are some emotional responses that I just can’t seem to grow out of. Despite my cynicism that has continued to flourish and grow since the day I ate the crap-chocolate, I am still shaken to the core when I realize the duality of something or someone that I’ve grown to care about. I don’t know why because I am very aware of the dichotomy that exists in all people and in all things (thank you Emily Dickinson for that). And it has to be that way because no one would understand what good is if they didn’t understand bad. We wouldn’t be able to recognize pleasure if we had not, at one time, known pain. I am aware that people and things are made up of tragedy and comedy, good and bad, positive and negative. People that have the ability to make me smile are also going to have the ability to make me cry. If I was still six years old, they would be both candy and medicine. And just like my mom's secret chocolate stash, this realization tends to make me feel a little bit queasy.
I don’t know if I want to grow out of this horrible disappointment that I experience every time I find out something or someone is not what I wanted it to be or what it originally presented itself to be. The realization of this dichotomy will hopefully be enough to keep me from devastation when the truth inevitably reveals itself every time. I think this has been on my mind because lately I’ve found myself putting up walls with people and new things because of this unavoidable realization looming in the distance. Protecting myself from the oncoming storm might be safe, but it keeps me inside more and more. If I give in and approach life with the knowledge that everything, at some point, is going to disappoint me, I will truly be a cynic and I don’t think I can handle that. At least now my cynicism is rooted in idealistic soil which stupidly and beautifully gives people the benefit of the doubt.
What I’m worried about now is the erosion that seems to be taking place every time I'm disappointed.
"Water, is taught by thirst.
Land -- by the Oceans passed.
Transport -- by throe --
Peace -- by its battles told --
Love, by Memorial Mold --
Birds, by the Snow."
Emily Dickinson
How cute, Amy. My brother wrote the story of how I (as a small child) was found where my Mom was keeping her ex-lax. Since there was no ex-lax around, they assumed I had eaten the whole boxfull. Hours and many troubles later, they finally got me to the Dr. who pronounced me good! You can read that story if you go to http://bobsmemoireessays.blogspot.com. I'll have it posted in about a week.
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