Escaping the World; Second Essay

My theory, then, was that by escaping the pressures of my situation either through memorization or an internal activity of creating a parallel universe, I would be enabled to return to "the real world" and take up the leadership role in an organization that I was able and being trained to do. That is, from my earliest days, I always perceived myself (and was affirmed for seeing myself) as a "leadership guy." So, I began to seek out and take on leadership roles. Or, to put it slightly differently, I took on a lot of "responsibility" roles, which eventuated in leadership positions. Though I was an athlete through high school, I was also student body treasurer my senior year of high school, as well as the moderator (leader) of my church youth group. In college I was leader of the campuswide Christian fellowship; at seminary I was student body President. Upon moving to Portland in 1982 and teaching at a prestigious and very visible college in the city, I became a sort of hot commodity as I participated in boards without number, was elected to the Board of Directors (and then became Chairman) of the largest community college in the Northwest, and developed a sort of cottage industry in speaking and leading seminars in churches and religious contexts around the area. Though I didn't intend it as such at the beginning, I was hoping that through my engagement with the world, I would eventually be hired to lead a college, maybe to be in charge of something significant for a religious denomination, to be pastor of a humongous church, to be the head of a significant non-profit entity or even be elected to statewide or federal political office. All of these things seemed to be such live possibilities for me in the mid-1980s.

But none of them, absolutely none of them, panned out. I think that one of the reasons for my 18-year depression (I think it was only 18 years) is that I seemingly wanted to, was prepared for, and applied regularly for, leadership positions but nothing ever worked. I rarely even got interviews. Then, upset at the lack of "movement" in my life, I moved to Kansas in 1990 to take up a position at a Christian college--thinking perhaps that this was the way to my future recognition and service. I would add to all my obvious skills a writing ministry--and be a "new name" in something or other. But even as I wrote and was published, none of that happened either.

I didn't give up; I went to law school, did exceptionally well and became an attorney at the most well-known law firm in the state. Yet my hopes were fading, as I increasingly say that I would be unable to participate even in a shadowy way in the flow of life "in the real world."

Fast Forward to Today

After I left law practice for law teaching, and after I completed four years teaching at my law alma mater, I then was "completely free" from anyone's expectations. I could turn to subjects galore at my own whim. I began to do so, especially in 2007. Yet, even in that time of full escapism, I felt the need to try to "tether" myself to the earth, and that in three ways. I would write, to be sure, but I would write things that were, by and large, "useful" for people. I would write at least three essays per week on the Revised Common Lectionary (used by pastors/teachers of the Bible); I would do a blog called Supreme Court Times (began late Nov. 2007) in which I summarized each case before the US Supreme Court in plain language for all-comers; I would begin to write on autism. These three strands of rope, so to speak, would keep me "tied" to the earth, linked to the practical life of the world in ways that would prevent me from just "floating free" into the stratosphere of my own imagination.

But, as time went on in 2007 and, especially in 2008, I realize that I want to spend only minimal time doing the practical tasks (I do the Biblical task primiarly to "keep up" with my Greek and Hebrew) and more and more time simply exploring concepts of my own discovery. I want to recreate my own past; write endless essays on words until I know all the words used in English; get my foreign language knowledge down of many languages; write endlessly on writers that are perhaps known by no one (Francis Bacon; Isidore of Seville). Now, to top it all, I seem to want to return to the fountainhead of all of my work--to return to memorization. This time, however, it is not the Bible; it is Paradise Lost. Why? Well, I ran into the word "pandemonium," and didn't know immediately that its origin was in Book I of Paradise Lost. In order to "discipline" myself for not knowing this, as well as to sink my knowledge of PL deeper, I decided I must memorize not just the lines where "pandemonium" appears, but to memorize the entirety of Book I--and then maybe more....

Conclusion

But all this is escape activity. It means that I sequester the "practical" stuff to a smaller and smaller section of my life, reaching always for material that is arcane, useless, but somehow tremendously invigorating for me. I can only say that the escape material so enlivens me because it connects me to my deepest past--to those times in third grade where I could sit peacefully out in the hall while everyone else had to do the class activity, and I could memorize to my heart's content.

This means a number of things--the primary one of which is that I will see the world fairly differently from most people, that I look to catchy and vivid ways to describe things, that I find myself quite able to make myself happy in almost any situation that I put myself--I find a way to present a challenge to myself to deal with the situation in which I find myself. But the "shadow side," so to speak, of my escapism, is that I find myself less and less "useful," just as I feel I have so much to offer. I could teach the world now; I really could. I could help a generation think more clearly, live more confidently, express itself more cogently, perceive more carefully. I could be (could have been?) a person who was helpful for so many people and organizations in so many ways. But I think that those times may be past, for I simply want to write on things that strum the chords of memory, of words that most people don't even know, of historical documents and insights that have no "use" in today's world, of incidents that others want to see in other ways, of texts memorized and internalized, of languages that teach us so much about how we "see" life.

It is a most gloriously satisfying life I now lead--and a most intensely dissatisfying life. I feel I am doing some cave painting in the most remote section of the world, testing out colors and patterns that have not been seen on this earth, and probably will never be seen. My escapism is drawing me to do more of that, even as my need for resources is still very present. I think I can do nothing other, now, than escape. It has been that way from my youth; it has become now implanted on my personality. I am sorry that I won't be understood, therefore, by those who want to live, move and have their being in this world. Ever since I turned to memorize the names of Jimmy Patton (20), Dick Lynch (22), Sam Huff (70) and all the rest, my fate was sealed. I would be a learner, a masterer, in my own course while everyone was in class, engaging with the "real world." I wish it hadn't taken me 47 years to learn this....

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