People packed the piazza for the village festa. Milling with the crowd I could see a little six-year-old child happily gathering mounds of confetti and tossing them up in the air over and over again. In his excitement he had drifted away from his parents and completely lost sight of them. Realising he was lost in a crowd of strangers he broke down in panic.
Meanwhile, from afar, his hidden but vigilant parents watched their little child panicking and took their time to rescue him. They wanted to teach him a lesson: you can only survive a crowd if you keep your loved and loving ones in sight.
That child’s plight is a paradigm of our so-called progressive society. When we lose sight of our loved ones – family, friends or community become just one anonymous crowd. We lose our identity, sense of belonging, and therefore the meaningfulness of our lives.
As a society we have become addicted to parties, receptions, feasts and all kinds of celebrations. Restaurants and eating places are mushrooming all over the place. Birthdays, weddings, graduations, baby showers, and late-night dancing are becoming almost boring, day-to-day non-events. Any excuse is good enough to throw in a party – an opportunity to dress up, mill around with familiar or less familiar strangers, beam plastic smiles while cosying up to unknown strangers, and... let the drink do the talking! These become crafty means to escape in deafening music that saves us the trouble of keeping up a simple, meaningful conversation.
We have made great strides in our ability to communicate. But we are getting increasingly allergic to any type of personal and lasting communion
The problem is not having a party. The problem is when we think that having a party becomes the definition of having a good life. The problem is when we mistake being lost in a partying crowd thrown for every and any reason for the deeper and more authentic joy of celebrating our togetherness. The problem is that being with others becomes an empty escape into superficial social mixing or simply pure convention.
We are becoming more and more terrified of encountering and committing ourselves to one another. We have become addicted to our individualistic self-sufficiency, which we mistake for freedom and so-called autonomy. We are growing more and more terrified of committed, deep and personal relationships.
We over-inflate social occasions to cover up our anguish and crushing loneliness. We are terrified of losing our so-called freedom and self-sufficiency. Little do we realise that others, and especially significant others whom we freely and lovingly embrace, are indeed the only way to discover a meaningful and life-giving relationships.
We have made great strides in our ability to communicate. But we are getting increasingly allergic to any type of personal and lasting communion. We are building smoother roads for our luxury cars, only to get stuck in the lonely, frustrating traffic ‘jams’ that taste more like bitter lonesomeness. We are blocking the sun with our high-rise phallic symbols casting menacing shadows below, creating anonymous and self-isolating apartment jungles. We can only survive crowds and jungles if we keep our loved and loving ones in sight. We can only survive our cancel culture if we invest in building homes rather than houses, families rather than fortunes, happiness rather than comfort.
Is there hope for the child within us, happily and playfully throwing confetti up in the air? Is there hope for a society built on life-giving, authentic and lasting relationships? Is there hope for the flowers?