Even-ness and package-deal-lives

I have this idea that everything somehow comes out even for all of us. It may have begun when I was jealous of one of my friends whose mother bought her a $200 dress for our 8^th grade dance and my mother said, “would you like it if your parents were divorced?” Meaning that I couldn't just cherry-pick the best parts of her life, because a life is a package deal. Meaning also, perhaps--I am just now realizing for the first time--that there was some link between the expensive dress and the divorce-- the friend’s mother may have been trying to compensate, or to demonstrate that this girl could still have all she wanted, or that the mother didn’t need a man to be able to afford nice, even luxurious, things for her daughter.

I feel like the specific bad things that happen to each of us will be made up for by the good things that happen to only us. Like shortcomings in our personality are excused by our strengths. (Sometimes unfairly. I think I am way more forgiving of attractive people, or people who have something to offer me). Like those of us who suffer through being nerdy or weird in school may someday literally be more fulfilled in life because we’ve learned what’s truly important.

I don’t know if this is true. I would suspect it is not, especially in very extreme cases, but it’s an idea I can’t shake from the back of my mind (not that I’ve tried very hard, or wanted to). I suppose it’s a manifestation of every human’s desire for justice. It just doesn’t seem right that people could really have a worse life. I mean, I honestly believe that suffering purifies us and makes us better people. I think that with every part of my mind. I have moments when I lapse away from it, but that belief has stood the test of time for me. So then, if our life is hard, our character is better for it.

A recent and vivid example that seems to prove my idea comes from a writing class. There is a girl I know, who is a good example of shininess (something I want to cover in a later post). To the extreme. She made an anonymous cameo in someone else’s essay because her Facebook makes her seem so happy and blessed that it was worth it to bring her up and talk about how lucky she is. This girl is not someone I know very well, but I know she came to college with a boyfriend who seemed loving and great for her. Later I found out that she cried at night so loudly that she could be heard outside her room. (To be honest, I don’t know how often. I remember it as “fairly often” but I’m not sure). And she and that “perfect man” are no longer together. Her nighttime crying (something I did not experience freshman year) is a great example of balancing out how damn jealous everyone is of her because she seems so happy. When I found that out, I was deeply gratified. Not that I was glad she cried, but I was glad she was human.

People who are truly happy all the time, not faking, to the extent that they exist, are living in ignorance and simplicity. They have traded intelligence and honesty for a shallowness that may be a bad thing. It reminds me of a dog. When I was a child I used to be jealous of my dog Yodi because he could just lay around all day. But, in keeping with what my mother taught me about a life as a package deal, I knew I couldn't read or eat really good food if I were a dog. But dogs can be happy all the time because they don't have to think about the deep sadness and inequality the world holds. With Jesus as our example we can still find joy and love through suffering, even though we have to be human. It's too hot in here to write more about that now. Hopefully someday I will be super comfortable to make up for it ;)