On the Turning Away

 Week Ten: On the Turning Away 

Don’t accept that what’s happening is just a case of others’ suffering

or you’ll find that you’re joining in the turning away.

It’s a sin that somehow light is changing to shadow

and casting its shroud over all we have known…

--Pink Floyd, On the Turning Away, from A Momentary Lapse of Reason

I use Facebook, but to be quite honest, I’m not sure why. I read into what other people post as if they all contribute to a worldwide conspiracy to irritate the living shit out of me. Often I see posts intended to convince me that Donald Trump is a bad person, which would be helpful if such a realization weren’t already quite apparent. There are posts back in the day intended to convince me to cast my vote for Hillary Clinton, which might have happened if I had changed my mind. There are even posts intended to convince me that certain oils are essential (for exactly what they are less clear). For reasons related to deep-seated masochistic tendencies I read all of these posts, and without fail I ask myself a series of very simple questions: Why is this on here? What need exists that prompts someone to use his or her time to post without knowing who they are addressing? And, even if they do know, why would they try to make their audience think as they do?

Some time ago I read a post from someone addressed to “all our family and friends.”  Two hundred nine words that explained that while on a Caribbean cruise celebrating their “honeymoon” their home suffered flood damage. It went on to explain that they do not expect “any assistance from homeowners insurance or FEMA” (although it was unclear whether or not they had filed claims) and that they had never asked for “a hand” from anyone (but on one occasion he did ask for “state/federal assistance” when he lost his job, but it wasn’t clear why this didn’t qualify). 

The post ended this way: If you can help with the clean-up (sic) (either the physical aspect or the financial aspect) it would be greatly appreciated. If you cannot help, please know that we both understand and would never pass judgment. Thank you.

For the entire week previous to reading this post, I did notice more than enough photos of the happy couple enjoying their “honeymoon” in paradise. The cruise ship seemed nice. The weather seemed nice. The excursions they took seemed nice. I even wondered if the price of all that was nice. Mostly I wondered why they called this vacation a honeymoon, as they have been married before and to each other for quite a while. But none of those wonderings compared with what I wondered when I read the post that asked for help with the financial aspect.

It was the last sentence that struck me. To me—a person who calculates words the same way a deer hunter knows that the first shot is often the last—the last sentence is an odd combination of notions. If you cannot help… This reminds of a phrase I use when strangers on the street ask for money: I can’t help you today. Of course I could…I could help; but 99 times out of 100, I’m not willing. …Please know that we both understand. Understand what? I’m serious… Understand what? Perhaps understand that people aren’t willing to give away their money? That you just spent thousands of dollars on a Caribbean vacation, and now you need money? You claim to understand but my guess is that you don’t. …and would never pass judgment. Pass judgment? Pass judgment on what? On people who budget their money? On people who save their money? On people who have money? He said he would never pass judgment, but my guess is that he already had.

…..

It’s an easy thing to forget that talking to a person who is emotionally crippled is still a two-way street. As it is with the folks who stand at traffic signals in hopes of receiving handouts from the drivers of cars waiting to proceed, it is easy to forget that the whole time I am watching them move rather desperately from vehicle to vehicle, when it is my turn, they are watching me, too. A gentle push on the accelerator is nothing more than a turning away. Don’t accept that what’s happening is just a case of others’ suffering…

I’m holding on to something, and until now I wasn’t sure why. For reasons far greater than I care to imagine, the last time I used Skype, I couldn’t see the person to whom I was speaking. Instead what I saw was my own reflection. The glass of the laptop screen was in essence a mirror, so instead of using the visual cues that accompanies a conversation, I found myself reading the same cues my friend was using; and that’s what I meant by “two-way street.” I could hear myself speaking, but by seeing my every move, I became a spectator of the conversation I was having. (That conversation was one I never imagined, and on reflection—no pun intended—I am reminded that the older we get the less easily we are shocked.)

Funny how walking alone on a hot late-summer morning, I would hear a song I know well in a way I had not considered before…you’ll find that you’re joining in the turning away…reminding me of how hard it is sometimes to see the light changing to shadow, to at least be aware of the shroud cast over compassion, the same compassion that suspends offense at an oddly-worded plea for help.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ojf18wT_Xtk