Now it's a single chick in Pakistan who can't wait for a husband any longer. (Salon)
"How serendipitous that your letter should arrive this morning, on
the heels of the letter from the woman in India in an arranged
marriage, whom I advised
to accept the perhaps painful and unjust constraints of her culture and
her choices. That did not seem very progressive, did it? I imagine it
might have sounded rather conservative or backward.
Perhaps I should say this: I do not think that my general ideas
about law and culture are conservative or backward; but I believe there
is much peril in conducting one's private life as though it were a
political demonstration project. People's well-being depends on fragile
networks of family and culture; family and culture are not outside us
but inside us; when we attempt to fight them -- because we judge their
practices to be backward -- we are in some degree also fighting
ourselves. We might not be prepared for the damage this can do to us,
or for the long, wrenching process of inner change it requires. I feel
protective toward people who write to me. I try to put their interests
ahead of my own. I try not to place them in greater danger. I sometimes
feel that caution is best.
So I welcome your letter. It offers an opportunity to continue the
discussion, though I wonder if I will actually clarify anything."
It doesn't, really, but where he wanders to afterwards about discussing adversity is interesting, even if it has NOTHING TO DO with the question, pretty much. (Cary doesn't seem to be having things go well for him now, it seems.)
"I know that we are tested. I'm not saying we are tested by God. That
doesn't make sense to me that God would test us -- if God wanted to
know what was up, he wouldn't need to test, would he? I only know that
we are tested and the testing gives shape to our lives. I am drawn to
those who respond with strength when tested.
I learn from those who meet difficulties well. What I learn I try to pass on.
What I observe about those who meet difficulties with admirable
grace and courage is that they somehow manage to keep their shape; they
do not become someone else and they do not give up or turn away; they
remember what they are trying to do; they remain; they persist. They do
not lose their ideas. I suppose this could be expressed as "they have
faith" except that to "have faith" seems to be to expect a positive
outcome. It is more that the people who deal with adversity well seem
to recognize the possibility that things might not work out but they
keep going and try to be cheerful.
One might ask, Why? Why go on in the face of uncertainty? And that
is the mystery: Why indeed? I do not know. That is where we meet the
ineffable quality that I admire. Not all might admire this quality; to
some it might seem stupid to go on without reason. It is an unreasoning
thing; perhaps it is simply an unreasoning love of life.
And so again we scratch the surface of our behavior and reach this
unreasoning love of life, this unreasoning belief in the rightness of
the human project, a belief that after much travail is threadbare and
worn, crude and animal, like the instinct for survival.
You are not alone in thinking things should be different. Ideally,
we act with courage and conviction to change things, but at the same
time we live in the world as it is, and we live with ourselves as we
are, with our limits and our fears, and we live with fate as it is --
capricious and unpredictable, cunning and malicious."
I dunno about "why do we go on?" More like, what other options are there? You can collapse into a ball and cry and whine and wait for someone to come along to take care of you...or not...a la my grandma's MO. Which doesn't improve jack shit. You can off yourself. Or... go on. Yeah, if there was a fourth option it might get a lot of takers, but there isn't one. So... you go on.