Ramblings on dissatisfaction

We are always inclined to be dissatisfied with what we have. We are 'trained' to complain and to see the worse in our situation. We focus on what we don't have, moan about how we are not being treated fairly and smugly sip on the bitter nectar of our self-pity. Our dissatisfaction is often linked to one feeling, the feeling of being wronged, of being treated unfairly. This can be in respect of our job, ie. we feel unappreciated by our bosses and our efforts unrewarded, or it can be in respect of our studies, ie. we feel we are simply not getting the results our efforts deserve, or it can be in our situation in life, perhaps we feel we should be richer or better looking or smarter or happier.

Some 60 years to this day, Auschwitz-Birkenau was liberated. By that time, more than an estimated 3 million people, Jews and Soviets etc, had been exterminated at Auschwitz by the Nazis. Rudolf Hoss, the Commandant of Auschwitz related the following in his sworn testimony at the Post-War Nuremburg trials: "I commanded Auschwitz until 12/1/1943 and estimate that at least 2.5 million victims were executed and exterminated there by gassing and burning, and at least another half million succumbed to starvation and disease making a total dead of about 3 million." The story of unspeakable human cruelty still rings loud today to those who would dare to hear. Bales of human hair bear testimony to the hundreds of thousands gassed to death. Evidence has emerged of thousands of women and children who died after being subject to vile medical experimentation. All part of the Final Solution Hitler had put in place to exterminate all Jews in Europe. I've been reading some information on Auschwitz and felt sick in the stomach.

Who determines our position and place in life? Who determines if I am to be born in a certain place and time, with certain characteristics and abilities? Do we look at those less fortunate then us so that we can feel better about ourselves? Do we avoid focusing on what we don’t have so that we can be satisfied with our lot in life? Why does life treat some people better and others with the raw deal? Some might say God, others might say the devil, still others might say that is the result of sin in a fallen world. Or as Shakespeare writes in King Lear, "As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods, they kill us for their sport". Looking at the apparent arbitrariness of life, and the senselessness of it all, we struggle to find any sort of meaningful answer. Is there any sense to it all? Is there any fairness to it all? There is a sadness in me now as I look at the world around me. So many struggling just to survive, so many grappling to play with the difficult odds life has dealt them. Injustice, cruelty, suffering. What can one person do? How can I find answers to these questions that rage within my disquiet soul?

Between eternity past and eternity future is a small blip of existence called time. This is the short space which began at creation and will end at the recreation of the new heaven and the new earth at the end of time. Perhaps we will never know why, at least not in this lifetime. Perhaps our questions will never be answered. But within this short 60 to 100 years of our life, we are all called to make choices, choices that will determine the end-product of our life, choices that will determine our eternity. We cannot abdicate from this choices by claiming that we have been treated unfairly by life or that our questions have been unanswered. We cannot retreat into a world of self-pity and pretend that these choices will go away. At the end, we will all have to account for every choice made, every word spoken. What is the legacy we want to leave this world with? A legacy of a person who has never accomplished anything because he succumbed to self-pity and was paralised to act by the quicksand pit of complaining he had sunk into. Or the legacy of a person who has loved and served and impacted others because of the choices he made. People who leave behind a successful life do not do so by complaining. They do so by daring. History does not remember the complainers. History remembers the brave.