One of the deepest and most primal human needs is often neglected as we race through our lives chasing the social signifiers of success: some wondrous peace and quiet.
And we enjoy this far too infrequently.
Think of the mothers who wake up early to enjoy a crucial cup of coffee before the young ones come bouncing out of bed with a host of problems and demands. Note the joggers cruising along your street each evening with their earbuds playing some light rock or classical music while—quite literally—trying to run away from the accumulated stresses of their workdays. How many urbanites go to sleep at night to the soothing sounds of nature—courtesy of a phone app?
Unfortunately, the “get-away” vacation is now often captive to a string of phone calls and texts from the office, and even the pleasant notion of coming home from work is entirely passé—the responsibilities of most managerial and professional jobs follow us home. I suspect that our strange attraction to oversized and overpriced vehicles goes beyond merely showing off for friends and colleagues; many are seeking a plush cocoon to insulate them while commuting and running errands.
Even our “entertainment” is stressful. Movies are incredibly loud and explicitly designed to jangle our nerves and shock our adrenaline. Think of a wonderful classic movie such as 1944’s murder mystery Laura starring Gene Tierney and Dana Andrews or even what was, at that point, considered rougher, grittier fare, such as 1949’s brilliant The Third Man starring Orson Welles and Joseph Cotten. I strongly suspect that most younger viewers would find these rather sluggishly-paced and wonder why there is so little “action” (and certainly no sadistic violence or gratuitous nudity). We have become so accustomed to constant stimulation and coarseness—whether it be today’s movies, music, television shows, or daily discourse—that the quiet charms of our culture and conversation from only 75 years ago feels oppressively dull to our frayed nerve endings.
Being constantly agitated and, to be honest, attacked by the complexities, conundrums, and conflicts of the loud and crass world we have constructed for ourselves also probably explains why our younger generations are avoiding relationships with actual humans in favor of the dubious comforts of curating their social media accounts and single orders of take-out food.
The generation that came of age during and after World War One was granted a patina of doomed romanticism by writers such as Gertrude Stein and Ernest Hemingway, who dubbed them the “Lost Generation” of directionless and disoriented survivors too precious and pained to succeed in the period after the war. However, today’s under-30 crowd, scarred by Covid lockdowns and often loaded down with mind-numbing prescription drugs since the day they first shouted in kindergarten is the real lost generation, having been robbed many times of two loving parents, any semblance of childhood innocence, and a society where recognizable and generally-accepted rules of behavior could ease their interactions with others and provide some guideposts toward a happy and healthy adulthood.
Older adults don’t have it much easier, particularly if they are trying to raise children or grandchildren while protecting them from those who see our young as empty vessels to be indoctrinated instead of tender hearts to be protected. Having spent my own childhood happily wasting my free time riding my bicycle, climbing trees (and sometimes discovering gravity by falling out of them), reading comic books and science fiction, playing games, and remaining blissfully ignorant of a confusing adult world that seemed far, far away from our dirt bomb wars and occasional scuffles, I cannot help but feel sad for the truncated and traumatic childhoods of young people raised by their cell phones and unable to imagine playing unsupervised until the streetlights came on.
Parents have many very good reasons to be terrified about the safety of their children, but the violence and perversion of our culture is not conducive to safety for anyone of any age. Even those who are not parents need to now be on their guard because arrest is now often a prelude to release without charges, so predators and psychopaths now roam free and easy among us.
I shudder to imagine what it must be like to be a girl or woman in our country today. Now that any remnants of chivalry are well and truly gone, to be female is often to be a target, so the possibility for carefree youth and flirting has mutated into omnipresent fear and the crushing stress of guarding against humiliation, assault, rape, or worse—I well understand why so many start their adolescent and adult lives loathing teenaged boys and men.
Meanwhile, whether younger and older, males now have bigger worries than an argument in gym class or a bar. Knives and guns are commonly used today, and threats are carried out with a deadly force that was simply unheard of while I was slouching through my own growing pains a half century or so ago.
Is there any way we can now unscrew ourselves from all this stress, which is inflaming hatreds that are corroding what remains of our togetherness as a nation?
It’s going to be a long haul to return to basic civility, I think, because people who are wound as tightly as many are today tend toward extremism and paranoia because of personal, familial, and financial stresses that prompt many sleepless nights. This makes rebuilding trust an incredibly difficult process, and the merest hint of disagreement or dissent tends to send many into a rage spiral. Given that differences in values and judgments are always going to exist—and the overstressed are not likely to engage in calm and reasoned discussion regarding even mundane topics—we are in a difficult situation, which is worsened because there is sometimes a huge divide in values and judgments to bridge.
We can begin by listening instead of shouting; however, a few beers might first be needed.