Title : "Utopia"
link : "Utopia"
"Utopia"
I think I'm pretty easy to get along with. If you believe and do things differently than me, okay. Live and let live. All I ask is that you treat me with the same liberty. Of course, people aren't like that. They want you to believe and do the same as themselves, and anything other than that is seen as a challenge that must be overcome or destroyed. I can't change my inquisitive, questing temperament, so I imagine you can see the difficulties I've encountered.
I was the same as a child. I went to church every week and did my best to follow the rules, but then they described heaven as a glimmering city with streets paved in gold. I was horrified. There was no way I wanted to spend eternity in a city on my knees saying endless hosannas -- without dogs! Sounded like a hell to me. My adults had an impossible task in trying to make this sound like a reward for good behavior.
I went back home to my utopian woods and river and pondered deeply why God wanted me to live in a city on my knees. It was just one thing of many that didn't make sense. So, even though I'm easy to get along with, I was sometimes called a difficult child. I suppose I still am? Perhaps we all are until the adults force us into conformity? Then, we become the adults forcing conformity. I don't think any of this makes us happy.
This isn't just about religion; it's everything. Everybody says you should want to be married. Tried that; it didn't work for me. Everybody told me to be an engineer. I became an artist. On and on and on. I'm sure you have your own list of "ought tos", "have tos". What I've come to realize is that the advice others push on us is the advice they'd like to take themselves. It's what they want, and they want you do it for them.
I've always thought the golden rule should be do unto others as they would have you do unto them. Not how you want to be treated, how they want to be treated. Otherwise, it's extraverts forcing shy people to parties or introverts forcing extraverts to sit quietly. Or simcity civil engineers forcing me into an eternity of their concept of heaven when I need trees and dogs.
I was asked a while ago to describe my perfect life. I spent weeks considering my answer. Eventually, I came to understand that perhaps I'm living it. Well, keep in mind this was before I spent so much time scrubbing my basement free of mold and mouse poop, but still. (And for the record, I'm still scrubbing. My allergies won't allow me to work on it any faster.)
The point is, decide for yourself what you want, and appreciate it when you have it. If your ideal afterlife is a golden city, mazel tov. I'd like to think God will provide a place in the woods for people like me -- with dogs. And paint. I would hope that making art would count towards my hosannas :D
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