Several months ago, in the lead-up to the most recent Most Important Election of Our Lifetime, I wondered out loud whether we should choose the uncertain wish for hope and joy or the very real promise of bleak despair. These were the options that were being presented to us, and the choice seemed pretty clear. I know I don’t need to tell you which alternative won out, but I will anyway. It wasn’t hope and joy.
So here we are today, living in a landscape carved from bleak despair, bleaker than most people anticipated. And we’re navigating through a darkness that descended on us with a startling speed, outperforming nearly everyone’s—even the most cynical—predictions. Leading some people to cry, “We did not think things would be like this!” Or “How is this happening?” While others declare, “I didn’t vote for this!”
I have said none of those things, because this was the specific promise made by that dangerously unstable and increasingly feeble weirdo. A promise I signed up for. And, as he and his fans like to say, a promise fulfilled. As a result, I am not thrown off balance in the least. On the contrary, I am very comfortable.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not happy. I’m not content. I’m not sitting here smugly grinning, saying “I told you so” to anyone who will listen. In fact, I don’t do any grinning at all. Haven’t grinned this calendar year, if memory serves. I don’t feel safe for any amount of time, anywhere I go. Even when I’m huddled in the darkest, least traveled corner of my home. But, and here’s the most important thing, at least I wasn’t surprised. And that’s what comforts me. Because I hate surprises. I hate uncertainty.
Moments of joy can come out of nowhere from unanticipated sources. A baby giggling in a park. A kitten curling up on your lap, purring like a tiny engine. A kind word from a stranger. A brilliant sunset after a storm. But happiness is a knife-edge you can’t stay balanced on for longer than a brief moment. It ends abruptly, no matter what you do or don’t do to prevent that. I can’t abide by that ambiguity. How can I move through a day, a week, a lifetime if I cannot know definitively that happiness and joy will be by my side every moment of every day? How is that supposed to work? I’m happy one day, and something happens out of nowhere that snatches that happiness away? Sounds awful, and no thank you. Try to do that with despair. Try to do that with anguish. Try to do that with misery.
Yeah, you can’t, can you?
It takes planning and hard work to eradicate despair, anguish, and misery. As a result, that dependable trio won’t ever disappear in a startling or sudden way. In the history of civilization, no one has ever said, “One day, for no discernible reason, my despair and misery just evaporated. That was unexpected.” But that happens with joy and hope ALL THE TIME. I, for one, refuse to put up with that. Last fall, I cast my vote for despair, and I got exactly what I was told I would receive: a chaotic hellscape completely empty of warmth, empathy, and sunshine.
It’s like when you’re in a restaurant and you order a delicious sandwich. The sandwich you receive might disappoint you, it might not live up to your expectations. But when you ask for a terrible excuse for a sandwich, like “Give me your worst sandwich,” almost anything you receive fulfills your request. That’s us. We’re in that restaurant. And we’ve been given two pieces of damp cardboard with garbage in between them—exactly what we ordered. Our compliments to the chef!
Is it awful? Of course it is. Does it seem like it will never end? Yes! YES! And that’s what I like about it. This despair feels infinite and is therefore predictable and safe. Instead of living in some diaphanous house of cards built out of positivity and mutual respect, I’m living in an unheated, unlit cave at the base of a gloomy mountain called woe.
You can join me if you like. There’s plenty of room for all of us, plenty of dank caves in this massive mountain. Life here is terrible, hopeless, and relentlessly depressing. But at least it’s predictable.
And isn’t that way better than being happy?
