The meaning of one’s existence (I refer to a meaning bounded by the span of one’s consciousness and not to any manner of grand, unifying purpose) comes from interactions of one’s consciousness with the universe at large and with other conscious minds. The proportion of these two types of interactions is determined by who we are and in turn defines our identity. Sometimes, in interacting with certain people we find the meaning of our own existence enriched. These are the people with whom we form stable, meaningful bonds – love, friendship and the like.
Once in a while there comes along an individual whose existence enriches that of many – a hero. Indeed a hero is one who can love many as his own and continue to do so without having to avert his eyes from the truth. Because, heroes are reviled more than they are loved – that is the way of our “society”. Our actions scream out the words we dare not whisper – the only good heroes are dead ones. While they live, heroes are the squeaky wheels that will not be silences. They are the square pegs that will not be contained by the round holes of our “society”. They are the thorn in our collective side. But truly they are the sheep in a den full of wolves in sheep’s clothing.
Why do we hold such contempt for them? Perhaps because they are who we wish to be and by being noble, they reflect the ugliness in the rest of us. We are too lazy to live by our principles, or to even have a clear moral framework; so we deem it impossible. We blame our failures on “the human condition”, but then a very human being comes along and offers us a glimpse of what is possible. And we hate him for it. We destroy him as best we can – we may not always succeed at destroying the idea of a hero, but we certainly excel at destroying the person of one. Once we’ve killed a hero, we try to truly bury him and all that he stood for. Failing that, we place him on a pedestal. In what must be the greatest mockery of them all, we then condemn our own hand that did the killing. But at some level we all know that our collective hands are stained with more blood than we care to admit, even to ourselves.
Once a hero is slain we go to work on him with the all the skill of a master artist: we place his name in lights and sing ballads in his honor even as we grind down the idea he stood for, until all that remain are a few weak words. Words like liberty and non-violence – words that we may then utter with mock ceremony without fear of being affected by the idea they once represented. That way we can sweep away our collective guilt under the proverbial carpet and move on with our “lives”. Ain’t WE grand?
The one redeeming truth, though, is that heroes do sometimes succeed – rarely to the extent they had aspired to and almost always, paying with their lives – but at the end of the day, they stand tall over (against?) the rest of us.
P.S. This post was inspired by a radio talk show discussing the ideals that Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. stood for.
Once in a while there comes along an individual whose existence enriches that of many – a hero. Indeed a hero is one who can love many as his own and continue to do so without having to avert his eyes from the truth. Because, heroes are reviled more than they are loved – that is the way of our “society”. Our actions scream out the words we dare not whisper – the only good heroes are dead ones. While they live, heroes are the squeaky wheels that will not be silences. They are the square pegs that will not be contained by the round holes of our “society”. They are the thorn in our collective side. But truly they are the sheep in a den full of wolves in sheep’s clothing.
Why do we hold such contempt for them? Perhaps because they are who we wish to be and by being noble, they reflect the ugliness in the rest of us. We are too lazy to live by our principles, or to even have a clear moral framework; so we deem it impossible. We blame our failures on “the human condition”, but then a very human being comes along and offers us a glimpse of what is possible. And we hate him for it. We destroy him as best we can – we may not always succeed at destroying the idea of a hero, but we certainly excel at destroying the person of one. Once we’ve killed a hero, we try to truly bury him and all that he stood for. Failing that, we place him on a pedestal. In what must be the greatest mockery of them all, we then condemn our own hand that did the killing. But at some level we all know that our collective hands are stained with more blood than we care to admit, even to ourselves.
Once a hero is slain we go to work on him with the all the skill of a master artist: we place his name in lights and sing ballads in his honor even as we grind down the idea he stood for, until all that remain are a few weak words. Words like liberty and non-violence – words that we may then utter with mock ceremony without fear of being affected by the idea they once represented. That way we can sweep away our collective guilt under the proverbial carpet and move on with our “lives”. Ain’t WE grand?
The one redeeming truth, though, is that heroes do sometimes succeed – rarely to the extent they had aspired to and almost always, paying with their lives – but at the end of the day, they stand tall over (against?) the rest of us.
P.S. This post was inspired by a radio talk show discussing the ideals that Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. stood for.
3 comments:
Dude,
Everyone who simply tries to be true to herself/himself is hounded by society.....emotions, threats, rewards, 'friendly advice' from people who can't give up their dependence on conformism, etc will be used in abundance if you start expressing your self.
Btw,speaking from the perspective of analytical psychology, a 'hero' may be great, but the person concerned will stop being the hero once they have attained the 'self'...and it is at this point where the negative reactions of society become palpable.....people who love masks and madness are viscerally threatened by one who is sane and satisfied with nothing over and above the 'self'....( I speak not of some ethereal spirit thingy).
The 'Hero' should never be deified.....because this makes their excellence unattainable for common people. It would be an act of love, if one could do great things and show others esp kids who shall inherit the world from us, that they can do it as well, if not do greater things in their time.
Good one.
We concur yet again.
"The 'Hero' should never be deified." Indeed. Reminds me of he grandfather. He would often say that it is plain wrong to expect anything in return for right actions. Because doing the right thing is nothing special. Rather it is merely the norm.
BTW, do check out my earlier post, Human Life (http://macnife2001.blogspot.com/2007/04/human-life.html).
Dude,
I dunno whether you have felt this, but when you simply do the right thing, and act in strict consonance with your own nature, you feel happy and peaceful without any need for external reinforcers of any kind (after all, we are human beings, and not B.F.Skinner's rats).
Will check out your post.
SARVAM SRIKRISHNAARPANAMASTHU!
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