Ryan Crossfield Ryan Crossfield

332. crumbling is not an instant’s act

Most of the time people forget the lessons that historians and leaders would like us to remember. Whether it’s a natural disaster or a pandemic, each enter our collective consciousness as they arise, seemingly out of nowhere. Novel as they seem in the moment, they are often remnants of unresolved themes of the past we continuously fail to learn from and correct. We think this time it’s different, forgetting that even though history doesn’t repeat itself, it does rhyme.

After a flood washes out huge sections of oceanfront property, people rebuild their lives on the same spot. After this pandemic, it’s likely, people will go back to their old habits of taking their health for granted. Unfortunately, we have a culture that doesn’t remember because they’re blasted with a story that says this time it’s different, backed by a media portrayal that exacerbates a narrative that our way of life was right all along, while disregarding any clues that may have shown up along the way.

There’s a poem by Emily Dickinson called Crumbling is not an instant’s Act which shows things need to build before they can happen. It reads:

Crumbling is not an instant's Act
A fundamental pause
Dilapidation's processes
Are organized Decays.

'Tis first a Cobweb on the Soul
A Cuticle of Dust
A Borer in the Axis
An Elemental Rust—

Ruin is formal—Devil's work
Consecutive and slow—
Fail in an instant, no man did
Slipping—is Crash's law.

The emphasis on Crumbling is not an instant’s Act and Slipping—is Crash’s law is mine, as I think it poetically illustrates that things don’t simply happen out of nowhere, they take time. The bottom doesn’t just drop out, things have to creak, weaken and give way. It’s our choice to look the other way when we hear the squeaks. It’s our choice to be consumed by the nonsense of telling us not to pay attention to the clues. It’s our choice to be coerced into a false sense of confidence that is perpetrated by popular narrative, saying we are on the right path. But are we really?

We’re continuously assured that this time it’s different. This time it came out of nowhere. No one could have known. The voices of popular media seek to placate our worries by reaffirming our way of life is the correct one, yet, if that were true we would learn from our past. Instead we confidently walk toward a cliff, ignoring the signposts along the way that warn us of the upcoming drop. Then we’re surprised when we eventually walk off the edge.

So how do we change? If getting us to learn from our past doesn’t work because we’re too busy wrapped up in the now, lost in the blatantly false narrative of going the right direction, then how do we keep from repeating our past failures? Generally, the way people change their mind and thus correct their path isn’t because of a single lesson, it’s through a tumbling of dominos. It’s the same principle Dickinson reaches for with Crash’s Law. It’s a gradual shift. Built with awareness over time, until a crescendo eventually happens one way or the other. We either learn, or repeat our same mistakes.

The problem comes with who is controlling the information we’re receiving, the narrative, the ideas being sold because they’re all going to influence the questions we ask and the actions we take. The best way to create positive change to our situation is to become aware of what is going on around you. Look for the signposts. Each one is a domino falling. New information leads to new thoughts, which leads to new questions that evolve into new actions. There’s no fall without warnings of a cliff ahead.

Read More
Ryan Crossfield Ryan Crossfield

201. the sky is falling

If the power went out for a week, and we didn’t have access to the news or social media, would we still think the sky was falling? Eventually, someone would venture outside and look up to either confirm or deny. Chances are, if that person could go out and look up, the sky isn’t falling. Either way, how would anyone know differently if they kept all their attention on the continuous stream of messages and images telling them about the sky falling?

It seems that our perception of reality is no longer our own, but developed for us instead. Unlike the prisoners in Plato’s Allegory of the Cave, we aren’t chained to the wall, forced to look upon the shadows thinking they’re real, instead, we welcome the stories about the shadows, all the while giving up our freedom to investigate. We reserved ourselves to the same fate because we’ve come to blindly believe what we’re told, making it part of our narrative and the way we see the world. The most troubling part is that we don’t actually believe what we see, but see what we believe. Therefore, if we believe the sky is falling, then that is all we will see.

Read More