Pride and Longing — Two Colliding Worlds Pt2
What do we have to choose?
The moon with its purple highlights dominated the sky on that light night. The sweet wind brought to my nose the coming of spring and to my memory the national holiday of March. A gentle shiver of pride then climbed up my backbone. My body was sprawled on the soft grass with my eyes fixed on the stars that were witnesses of my cogitations this midnight. Alone on a green piece of land, I contemplated the debt of man. Away from idle chatter, airy architecture, and distractions.
I am indeed a proud man. Proud of the values that were carved into my flesh, of the beliefs that I adopted and made my property, of my charity and kindness. I am proud of what I have achieved so far, of what I have failed, of who I am. We all carry more or less the dregs of pride.
What does this concept consist of anyway? From the white color of dignity that defines your limits and protects you from humiliation. But certainly also from the black color of arrogance that makes you paralyzed in front of your asymmetrical ego. The gray dividing line stands for moderation and the desired balance. How important it is to understand that this simple painting of three colors has two identical copies. One for your personal pride and the other for social pride. So are these two sides of the same coin in conflict? And if so, who wins?
I daresay there are weak people and strong people. The weak more easily alienate their morals and trample on their personal pride for fear of losing the world’s concern and applause for their achievements. They prefer to undermine their true self rather than wear down the window they have been forced to decorate. Under the guise of fear, these people promote social pride as supreme.
In opposition, is the paste of a person who has dared to enter into the labyrinth of searching for his personal essence. That man despite being lost, again and again, has learned great lessons. But what is the point of the trip if there are no frauds in between? At least this man knows where he is walking and why he is walking. And he is usually an immovable mountain when the grim moment comes to renounce his personal values. He doesn’t give a damn about what people will say, but a single whisper of guilt from within is enough to crush him.
Both of these other figures, however, boil in the same cauldron when the irrational urge of longing knocks on their door. Pride gives you an order, and offers you a security zone. But the opposite side of the unknown and dark fills you with awe when you think about the consequences of the risk.
Recently I listened to a podcast where a forty-year-old man was praising himself for how proud he was of the first woman he found, the family had built with her for twenty years, and the love he felt. But within him lived an unspeakable desire to experience something other than perfect. He craved the texture of a new woman’s touch on him. This idea was so deeply rooted in the recesses of his mind that he could not think of anything else. How would he suffocate this longing? Taking a chance on his marriage or risking losing his acquisitions? A decision for another decision. A life for another life. Only the feeling of pride stood in the way of what he longed for.
My humble, immature, perhaps even naive opinion is that you stifle a longing only when you loathe it, otherwise, even weakened, it will continue to roam the paths of your soul. Even if all you crave are cherries. You eat them by the handful, your stomach churns, and you vomit. For a whole week. And then the next day, you hate them. You continue to eat them but in moderation. You have tamed the lust.
Therefore, the two different canvases of pride are adapted differently from person to person. Pride defines you and your safety boundaries. Limits which, however, tremble when a longing is born and seduces you.
We define pride based on what we know about ourselves. But how can we claim to have found our true essence without experiencing all that we long for? Walking barefoot into the unknown we may lose ourselves or realize that for so long we have liked a small aspect of who we are and how far we can go.
I hope my perspective on the abstraction of pride will be food for thought, my beloved “Zeta”.
