Stuck In The Garden Of Options

Ever hear anyone utter the phrase "born too late?" I think I was just born too late, or, he was just born a generation too late. It usually pertains to a sentimental fascination with customs of the past; a nostalgic longing for the ‘simpler’ systems of one’s youth; or just an old fashioned moral code, one that may have been read about in text books, or heard in stories from grandparents, that has long since fallen along the wayside. I’ve always kind of resented the phrase, perhaps partially out of my unnatural contempt for like minded souls, but most likely because it’s become something of a cliche…regardless, no truer thing could be said about me– at least as it pertains to options; the ravenous cancer, as I see it, of modern society.

After much consideration, I fear it is this that lies at the center of my personal rift with contemporary culture– a culture that, for reasons I can scarcely understand, is obsessed with having them– and then having more of them, and more of them– to what end? Until the world can be arranged to our most detailed specifications, of course, with not one thing occurring that we did not wish for and invite upon ourselves. Originally, I blamed this rise of "options" fixation on the rise of women…and although I still regard it as a feminine sort of desire, it seems to be just as prevalent in modern men as it is in modern women. There are a number of things that can be measured to mark the passage of time over the last few hundred years– but none so consistent and ongoing as the expansion of one’s options. Right now, it is the only thing people will rally to defend, and fight for– the only sort of group morality that the nation has left. The right decision matters much less to people now than retaining the ability to make the wrong one….and the subtle peril in this is dire. Despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary, I hope I’m not alone in seeing it.

I wish I was brought up to learn a specific trade from a young age, so that I might have mastered it by now. I wish I had an arranged marriage when I was twenty one, so that I’d have children by now to spend time with. I wish not at all to dictate any of the terms of my own life, but rather stroll the narrow corridor in contentment. The more options there are, the fewer rules there are– and the fewer rules there are, the fewer rules there are to break– and the fewer rules there are to break, the fewer chances we have for truly magical experiences. Consider any great love story; Romeo and Juliet, Winston and Julia from 1984, or even Rose and Jack from Titanic; and ask yourself, "would their passions have burned as brightly without a single rule in their way?" People think they want options, because they think options are enhancing their life’s joy– when all they really do, indirectly, is diminish it’s value. Like eating sugar on an empty stomach…