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I watched a boy today, small and young, with all the complications and corruption that age bring, still absent from his mind for all appearances. As I watched this boy, perched as I was, upon my spot of respite, he ran along a grassy field, abiding to the call of a mothers beckoning. Upon reaching the point where nature turned to civilization, grass giving way to hard concrete, the boy happened to stumble; catching his foot upon what I can only imagine was an upturned curb of this construction. Watching with interest now, I saw the boy take a sudden tumble, landing hard upon his bared knee, scrapping it quite badly if his subsequent shouts were to be believed. And at this moment, the image still fresh in my mind, I was struck by both dilemma and epiphany.
Putting aside the numerous metaphors such an image could inspire, that I will at some point likely come back to; it was my reaction to this event that provoked the sudden paradox of philosophical strife. For when the boy had fallen, and his pain became obvious to this casual observer relaxing in the park, I was struck by a sudden sensation.
Typically, in this scenario, there are two responses I should have had. On one hand, I could have found the scene humorous, taking a slight chuckle from the comical nature and image of the fall. And on the other, I could have felt sympathy for a poor child who was just injured himself. Both of these would have been perfectly reasonable reaction, while the latter would have been admittedly more benevolent. The fact of the matter was, however, that I felt neither, in truth, felt nothing at all. For at that time, the first thing that came to my head was how I should feel. That is to say, I was too preoccupied wondering what I should be feeling, to actually feel at all.
This was my epiphany, and this was my frustration. For if this trend continued, as I had suddenly noticed it had begun to, what would the end result be? Would I end up some purely analytical creature? Doomed to forever forgo emotion in favor of analysis of my reaction to a situation?
Needless to say, I blew the whole event widely out of proportion.
However, I believe the idea behind this line of thought, the problem of forgetting to feel, is an important matter concerning human growth. On the optimists end, it could be considered a step forward in emotional development, placing morals and a sense of values above base reaction. Yet from another point, it could be said that doing so detaches us from what makes us human. On the whole, the subject caused me a great deal of grief until I began to look at it in terms I hadn't thought of yet. And to be perfectly honest, only came to me in writing these thoughts down as I am now. It all starts to makes sense you see, if you look at it in terms of evolution.
If you are of strong religious creed, or simply do not believe in the concept of Darwin's greatest work, humor me for the sake of conjecture I ask of you.
To say that one believes in the process of evolution implies that we, as a race, have changed a great deal from our ancestors, both physically and mentally. However, upon examination, it seems that we are done for the biological part of our evolution, our society making survival and reproduction possible and comfortable to not just a select group, but to the general public. This, at least, is the case in the country I have grown up in, but that is a matter I choose not to speak of at this time. The point is, of course, that with our bodies set in their ways of functioning, it is our minds that seem to be evolving, though not through the means normally provided for Darwin's argument. By this, I mean to say that it follows well the pattern of our moral development. The original base emotions, which derived from our ancestry, and helped to further our race, are quite simply not need for the common man in order to survive these days, and in fact, the system seems to support the emotionless shell quite better than the more feeling one.
Could it be possible that it is because of this reason that our emotions have been labeled as a useless trait by the process of evolution, and is by chance dying out simply for lack of need? Perhaps, and then, perhaps not. Yet here lies the conundrum; if this is indeed the truth, why is it I, and others I have discussed this matter with, are so consumed with the plight of their emotions? It would seem that the only true emotion we feel without analyzing first is the regret and sorrow of not being able to feel them in the first place.
And thus the circle is started, for once the idea had found its way into my mind and rooted itself there, the problem only intensified. Go back, if you will, to the image of the boy tripping upon the ground. When going over the scene again in my head, I noticed I had made a significant change to the story. In place of the strange boy I knew nothing of, I had substituted myself in his place, and it was me now, weeping upon the ground in a fit of pain and anguish. Is this the reason I, and many others, often crave for their all too quickly ended childhood? Do we secretly wish for that time when emotion was thus unfiltered by thoughts of what was right and wrong, and simply felt?
For that is the source of the problem. The philosopher's curse, the slavery of choice, of which we are all afflicted at some point or another. And once you have noticed it, it becomes even harder to resist, for in trying to, in trying to feel without hindrance of conscious thought and personal standard, we only add yet another layer to that impediment. When viewed this far, the matter indeed seems quite hopeless, yet there is an answer, one that, at first, almost seems to silly to be true.
The solution, the cure, is in our imperfection as humans.
None of us is perfect, of that we can be certain, and all of us are capable of feeling angry when there is no cause, sorrowed when there was nothing that could have been done and prideful when we are at the heights of our stupidity. And in these times of moral negligence, we forget to question what we should be feeling; we cast away thoughts of good and evil, and replace them with the emotions that fill our soul.
And not all of these things are inherently bad either. While lapses of moral consciousness may be the more common occurrence these days, free emotion can also be found in the love for life each human is capable of. As a personal example, I am quite well stricken at the moment, by feelings great love and care for someone I have only recently been made acquaintances with. Do I choose to feel these things? Perhaps, but if so, it is not a conscious act, for I cannot seem to help their sudden welling up throughout the day.
And thus I have my answer. The boy's mother, rushing to her sons' aide, indeed likely proceeded to comfort her child, not because she made the moral decision that it was the right thing to, but because, upon seeing her child, hurt and searching for comfort, she simply could choose to do anything else. Perhaps there is another lesson to be learned from this. For upon seeing this exchange of pure emotion from one human to another, I could not help but think that perhaps this is the reason it is so easy to love children for some of us, because they force us to feel without thinking. Drawing out the animal in us that dispels the strife decision can cause us.
As for me, I left the park soon after these events, smiling as I noticed how nice of a day it had turned out to be.
I did not smile because I found it an acceptable and morally correct choice for the circumstance.
I smiled because I was happy.