The Path To Salvation Is hard

For the first time in as long as I can remember, I stepped away from reading news. I don't mean that I just decreased what I read. For over two whole months, I did not absorb any significant news.

Part of it was due to increased focus on the bar exam, but most of it was a conscious effort to walk away from the world for a bit and hide in my lair. In that time, I moved in with roommates, read several books, built a computer, played lots of computer games, and generally embraced a selfish style of life. Knowing myself, it wasn't enough for me, particularly after reading "The Razor's Edge" by Maugham.

I read "The Idiot" by Dostoyevsky a while back, and Maugham's work brought back what I found to be the essence of Dostoyevsky's Prince Myshkin. For those who haven't read "The Idiot", Myshkin is an epileptic that was raised far away from his native Russia. His way of thinking and interacting with others are thought to be naive and like that of an idiot.  However, Myshkin acts with a thoughtfulness, respect, and kindness that others just cannot comprehend, branding him an outcast in a society that wishes to embrace it's convoluted, self-interested ways.

Maugham's Larry Darrell is a similar character - a messianic figure of sorts that showed a different way of life that conflicted with society. Darrell has the chance to embrace a life of wealth and happiness with a childhood love, but runs away from it in search of self-discovery. By no means is he selfish. Instead, he helps all of those he encounters. He simply walks away from a life of materialistic comfort to seek a life of spiritual peace.

With school over and choices ahead of me, I've been able to think a bit about what path I want to take. Most people I know are content to ride along a standard path that so many people equate with success - a job, a house, a stable relationship. I find it hard to accept that this is all there is after decades of education where we have been given the chance to expand our minds to utilize tools to which most in the world will never have access.

In fact, I can say it would be a failure of potential and responsibility at this point to simply progress forward on that common, obvious track. Frost's poem "The Road Not Taken" hints that the road less traveled will be more interesting, but it will also be fraught with struggle and confusion. There may be no success at the end, but unlike many others, we have the tools to embark upon that path.

For the first time in my life, I can say that the path ahead of me isn't clear. Worst of all, I'm starting to realize that it's not going to be an easy one. It's not about finding a job or paying rent, but it's about pursuing a responsibility that can't be put aside in the name of simplicity, comfort, and ease.

In this mindset, I started to pay attention to the world around me several days ago. I gently started to read, think, and write. In reading, I realize that the world has become a more confusing place in the few months I've been away. Then again, that is the way of the world. It stops for no one.

In some ways, it was appropriate that I started to enter the world again on the tenth anniversary of the attacks on the U.S. on September 11, 2001. I remember waking up to the a description of the World Trade Center being hit by planes. I watched as the Pentagon burned from the plane that crashed into it. But, as always, life went on.

I wish I could say this is where the U.S. dealt with adversity, conquered it's enemy, and made the world a safer place. But the world stops for no one, and the world got to be a more confusing place.

As I read through what goes on today, I realize that we have embraced a world of fear. We act because we fear poverty, terrorism, unemployment, government, or solitude. When I talk to those around me, I realize we don't have hope anymore. No one talks honestly of a brighter tomorrow that is safe, comfortable, and peaceful. Instead, there is simply living in the present because the future is just ahead of us, inevitably bringing it's consequences of success and failure. We accept the future for what it is, embracing that fear as a part of life.

I think it's easy to pretend otherwise. It's easy to ignore the problems of the world, to say they aren't ours to worry about. How can an individual affect the lives of starving children in some far away country? Why should I be responsible for the failures of those around me, those that are doomed to a life of poverty? Why must I care about the racism and bigotry around me when I am not the target of such actions?

These questions are rooted in fear and blossom with ignorance. They have become a part of life we can ignore, like the filthy, smelly man sitting on the sidewalk, repeatedly asking for change.

That's not the life I wanted. That's not that society I looked forward to joining as a child. I refuse to live in a world that reacts in fear of our failures. I refuse to look away and ignore.

if....

Many things have happened of late, least of which is graduating from law school. In a retrospective analysis, I think most of my goals have been met from the process.

I came in because I wanted to change the world - to make it a better place. I've definitely left with a deeper understanding of that goal. The most difficult lesson I've learned is that change is slow and difficult. Why? Because most people believe it has to be slow and difficult.

Part of facing the daunting task of change is figuring out where to start and what to end up with. There are many people out there with a clear picture, but the goal starts to look bigger and bigger each time one looks at it. The end result is a behemoth that some tackle with zeal.

However, most people look at the monster in front of them and start to slow down because they think change must be slower because they've always been told change is slow. Then, various side issues in life start to come into play, and tackling that monster seems to be more of a long term goal rather than something that delves into it.

The problem is that so many people think that this is okay, so not much gets done. This goes back a bit towards what one of my friends refers to as micro-change. He views change as being something that takes place on the individual and community level, eventually resulting in a global, aggregate shift towards some positive end.

I don't think the world is that simple. Change can be made on the individual and local level, but not everyone follows in that path. The result is a termination by some physical or social boundary.

Change must be drastic and breaking. It has to jar people from their traditional mindset and challenge their views. They must analyze and reconcile.

Strangely enough, this has melded well with a film I just saw. I've recently delved back into film a bit more seriously now that I force myself to stop studying at a certain point each day since I need to retain information for the California bar.

I just finished watching if...., which has Malcom McDowell. It delves into some issues of rebellion and revolution, but in a much more destructive way that is necessary. However, it highlights a key misconception of revolution needing to be purely destructive and violent.

Especially in figuring out what step to take now that I have another degree as a tool, I've come to understand that change doesn't have to destroy everything or even most things. Instead, change simply needs to come from outside of the system.

That right there - change from outside of the system - is where I think most people fail. In trying to prepare themselves for the next step, people find themselves as part of the system, continually preparing themselves for that revolutionary moment. Others believe in working within the system to make the micro-change that eventually has a macro-effect.

But aren't both of these failings? A system usually has a difficult time reforming itself. History has few, if any, examples of a contained culture that internally regulated. There has always been some external catalyst that pushed everything to a completely new level.

I'm left with a variety of career options that I've got to explore with the understanding that the people I will most likely work for will assign me a role in the system. Do I play along as a prepare myself for the next step? Or do stick to some "pure act" and stay outside the system to maximize my impact?

Leaving law school, I'm definitely more idealistic, but I'm also more pragmatic. I'm definitely not the same person I was when entering school. The changes have magnified those core philosophies in my life. The result is that each of those sides produce a stronger battle in each big decision I make.

Options, experience, and passion don't make choices easier. They make them more difficult because there is a deeper understanding of what those choices mean and bring. These days, an uprising of any sort doesn't seem so grand.