On Human Insufferability

Some time ago I was reading "Twice Told Tales," by Nathaniel Hawthorne, which ranks as one of the greatest works of fiction in American history. I feel a kinship with Hawthorne, who, like me, often felt as though he were merely an observer of human society and never a participant. He recognized, however, that participation in human affairs is a necessary defense against losing one's tenable grasp on life. This moderating effect is important; for otherwise, locked alone, following the idiosyncratic lines of logic dictating by one's own experience, the absurd and the dangerous becomes seemingly true.

Still, I find it difficult to be around others on a continual basis. Solitude is somehow essential to relationships just as togetherness is. As in all human activities, balance is key. Relationships require togetherness just as they require separateness. That is the rub. There is no divine commandment on how a perfect relationship should be conducted. They all required continual negotiation and balance. I believe that is why the scriptures devote so much more time to principles such as forgiveness, patience, love, charity, and faith, rather than a detailed exposition of rules. As Joseph Smith once said, teach the people correct principles and they will govern themselves.

Good intentions, however, can do a great deal of harm in relationships. I do not believe that humans inherently crave evil. They are, instead, inherently weak, cravenly, and short-sighted. That is not just cynicism, it is scripturalism! The scriptures state that man will pick the easier of two options, but in the long run, the easier option becomes the most difficult to bear. In the path to the top of the mountain to which scholars of comparative religions love to refer, one can select many different paths. Not all of them go up the mountain, however. Many merely meander around the scenery. Some trails are assiduous and some, the easy paths, lead no where at all.

Returning to the bad outcomes of good intentions, I have experienced this many times in my life. Two well intentioned, obstinate people will eventually have trouble. The story is told of the Transcontinental railroad that when the two sides met in Utah, they did not exactly line up. Rather than being the one to bend, both sides built parallel tracts in the desert to no where. Humans do this often in relationships. We talk past each other with parallel words, never listening, thinking we have the solution for a problem we have not bothered to fully inquire into.

This is what I so often find insufferable in relationships. Two ships, as they say, passing in the fog of life never inquiring fully into the other, neither listening nor hearing, so full of the self-conceit in one's own rightness, so well-intentioned toward our beloved, we do damage by our active neglect. So, let us all listen a little more than we speak.