A recent diary and the discussions it sparked have gotten me to thinking of a man I know. His story may offer lessons some here will find of value. It is akin to a fable, though it is not one. It's true.
Like most things true, it is unsatisfying.
This man is very well thought of by his friends and acquaintances. He's smart and funny, but, above all, he is kind. Remarkably so. More than most people I've known, he goes out of his way to help those around him who need help. He's also almost invariably thoughtful, finding worth of some kind in nearly everyone, even those most of us can find none in.
The funny part is that he doesn't think very highly of himself. He turns aside compliments and recognition. Some mutual friends feel his modesty is false, but I do not think so. In our conversations, he has told me things that make me understand he truly feels unworthy of people's praise.
Without going into detail, for his story isn't mine to tell, I can say that he has what seem to him good reasons for his feelings. He has made grave mistakes, which have reverberated through the lives of others to much ill effect.
He sees those effects and traces them back directly to choices he made. He rejects arguments excusing his actions on grounds of youth and ignorance. Pointing out that others' actions also brought these bad events doesn't move him from his convictions that his choices were determinate.
Knowing his story, I can sympathize, though I can't say I understand. Many of us make awful choices, and people get hurt, but he seems to have embraced his culpability, taken it as a sign that he is unworthy of the sort of contentment we all seek.
I've asked him on a couple of occasions why, if he feels he's done such wrong, if he's so unworthy of happiness and satisfaction, he remains engaged in the world.
To be clear what I mean, this man is married, with a wife and family and friends who think the world of him. He is extolled as a model in his community and, seeing his works, I believe this is correct.
But he doesn't. In his mind, he is a fraud and, at bottom, a bad man. I don't know his religious convictions, but whether or not he believes in heavens and elects, he counts himself properly damned.
As I said, a couple of times, my frustration with his self-condemnation has boiled over. "If you're so convinced you're such an awful person, why do you go about disproving it every damn day? You help the people in need, you're a fucking prince to your wife, you bring joy and worth to all of us who love you. If you're such an awful person, why don't you live in a cave and scourge yourself like a proper penitent?"
On those occasions, he has answered by saying simply, "This is what one does."
Meaning that, whether or not he feels himself a good person, pride--or perhaps humility--prevents him from acting otherwise. Maybe living as if he were a good person is pertinence for him, some small way to make up for the mistakes he made. I can't say I really understand his thinking.
But I can see a lesson in it. Things go wrong. People fall short. Mistakes, in contemporary parlance, are made.
But we still have a world we must live in, families and communities we must care for, actions we must take and choices about how we take them.
And whether or not we are worthy, whether or not circumstances are as they ought to be, we often have to act as if we are and they are.
For no other reason than because it's what one does.