The quote isn’t mine, and neither is the story, but I’m going to relate it anyway because I can’t get it out of my head today.
There was a TV show in the late 90s, Babylon 5, and it was a (better) competitor to Star Trek as it managed to both be a good show, and tackle far deeper philosophical issues than Utopia in space meets reality every week that is Star Trek.
One of the primary characters was a tragic figure, constantly yearning for “The grand old days of the Republic” and doing things for 5 seasons to bring them back. Without too much back story, he makes a choice in an episode for political reasons, and remembers his Father telling him “My shoes are too tight, but it doesn’t matter, because I’ve forgotten how to dance”
(Here is the clip if you’ve any desire to see it. It wasn’t a great episode, but it was a great scene)
I haven’t watched that episode since some time in 2019 when I was prepping our Amazon stuff in the hollowed out ruins of our mattress store. There I was, surrounded by the cold dead remnants of a “brilliant” idea of mine, and when I watched that episode that line didn’t resonate with me as much as it did today.
Perhaps it’s the fact that I’m a little older now, perhaps the fires of youth are finally cooling into the wisdom of middle age. You know, the time when you still have energy to do everything, but you can do it in a way that makes sense. Perhaps it’s my conversion to Orthodoxy bringing me closer to God. Perhaps it’s the events of the last 2 years playing out exactly as we predicted, and exactly as we feared. Being able to see in a world of the blind is both disturbing and sad, more than it is powerful.
I’m not sure. All I know is that line has stuck with me all day and keeps resonating around in my head.
I think there are a lot of us that feel this way.
What is it that we are doing here? How exactly are we keeping score as we shuffle along this mortal coil?
At least the cry of the Xers was that they were promised life as Rockstars and Movie gods and it just didn’t quite work out for them.
What was it exactly that we were promised? We didn’t even get rock star. Hell, when I was a kid TV and adults promised me life as a cubicle dwelling IT guy. I basically was going to be Chris O’Dowd from the IT crowd, but less able to live on my own. We were never promised lives of purpose, conquest, meaning, or depth. We were patted on the head and sent out into the world safe and secure in the knowledge that subsistence and mediocrity was our birth right.
It seemed to work for my parents right? I mean hell, they got married before I was born and they’re still together. I mean, the fact that my dad takes every opportunity to GTFO of the house and away from my mom is normal right? Sitting around obsessing about getting old and watching Fox News 24/7 now that my mom retired at like 55 seems like a great way to quietly pass 45% of the life I expect to lead.
My shoes are too tight, but it doesn’t matter, because I’ve forgotten how to dance.
What the hell are we all doing here?
Why is it the only two alternative in life seem to be some weird kind of descending deviancy spiral where you just try to smoke and fuck your way through the assorted chemicals and holes of the world till you die in a blissed out stupor, or you drift through life saying nothing, being nothing, and dyeing as nothing? Are our only two choices really just the life of hedonism, and a life of cubicled oblivion and being boringly invested in the stock market? When was the living?
Does not the Bible teach us in 1 Corinthians 6:19
“Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have from God, and that you are not your own?”
Are you going to live 100 years on God’s glorious creation Earth, and spend that entire time carrying the glorious spirit of our Lord back and forth between a job that does nothing but put 13 pieces of silver in your pocket, and a home that is empty of romance, love and joy?
I don’t know.
Maybe you will.
I want to hear from you. Are your shoes too tight, but it doesn’t matter because you’ve forgotten how to dance?
Because I believe that if we decide to, we can dance again.