As I said in that post, I have yet to meet a person, no matter how young nor old, that made me think, “wow, that person really doesn’t care.” Even little squirts reliably show signs of embarrassment. But, crucially, they show fewer signs of embarrassment, as in yeah I got brownie all over my face, so what?
To be sure, there are perks to caring less. I was at a restaurant recently when I saw an older guy sitting on his leg so that his foot was jutting out from his butt cheek. This made me jealous because this is a posture I assume at home on the regular. I don’t assume the posture in public because I have an inner masculine critic that says “don’t let them see how dainty you are.” It’d be nice to silence that voice.
But would it be possible to do so? Sure it would, probably. At least at the margin. This is what meditation is designed to do. What I highly doubt is that it would be possible to reduce all voices to nothingness—at best, meditation is a process of picking weeds. (And as I said in the last post, I have doubts about whether these are weeds worth picking because I see value in vulnerabilities.)
I’ll grant this: There are certainly people who have overcome any embarrassment they might have felt with their bodies. If you’ve ever been in a locker room, you know this. Here’s Ross Beeley describing a familiar scene in An Open Letter to the Gentleman Blow-Drying His Balls in the Gym Locker Room: (hat tip: Kottke)
You're actually doing it. I mean, we've all dreamt of blow-drying our balls out in the open, but you're actually doing it in front of me and at least sixteen other people that just finished exercising at this pricey sports club. Some of us will do it in private in our homes, or in a hotel room using a hairdryer a stranger might have just used to style their hair for that big business meeting in Denver. But not you. You are not confined to such social norms, norms that usually keep flapping, flag-like balls out of my eyes.
Does the courage to do this in public come with age? Perhaps it's something a young man like me can't understand. But you, you are on in years; gray and spotted like a ham in a paintball fight. Your scrotum reminds me of boardwalk taffy. Maybe you've been building up to this day your whole life and I'm witnessing the birth of a phoenix. You are no longer a man that blow-dries his balls in secret. You have transcended that station and now fall into an elite group of Spartans that blow-dry their balls wherever they God damn please. If caterpillars emerged from their cocoons as butterflies with heavy, sagging testicles I'd imagine they'd feel the same as you might right now.
He concludes this way:
Your actions disturb and inspire, and I can't look away. I'm either swelling with physical repulsion or the joy a parent feels watching their child take their first steps. Only in this case the child is an 84-year-old man with a hairdryer aimed at his balls. Whatever the case, you're an exemplar of bravery. So, please, shine on you withering diamond.
My feelings exactly.
The reason why this is both disturbing and inspiring is because there is an inherent conflict between openness and courtesy. Our 84-year-old man may blow-dry his balls wherever he God damn pleases, and he may poop in public restrooms with the nerveless ease of a quarterhorse, but he does so at the expense of courtesy.
Bob gives his own, less graphic, example:
Occasionally, I'll actually tell someone, "I know this won't be popular, but I honestly don't care." They're usually shocked, but to me it beats either pretending to care or enduring them going on and on about it. (I rarely care at all about anyone's wedding, let alone their anniversaries.) The people who genuinely love me already know that I don't care, and they love me anyway, probably in some part because of it.
Bob seems to have decided that he prioritizes genuineness, which he equates with loving himself and growing into the person he wants to be, over courtesy. A Dr. Seuss motto that I know he likes comes to mind: “Those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind.”
Alyssa and Anna, on the other hand, seem to prioritize courtesy over openness. Alyssa is about half a year into what she calls The Year of No Farts in order to be more desirable to her husband. And Anna said this:
One very important thing needs to be mentioned in this discussion: Empathy. Franzen also said: “Love is about bottomless empathy, born out of the heart’s revelation that another person is every bit as real as you are.”
For example: I have a girlfriend who farts at will. Her husband just laughs and shakes his head. For other couples, this might not be OK (see commentator above). It’s about knowing and respecting and having empathy for your partner’s feelings.
The trade-off between openness and courtesy is a tricky one, and I’m not sure where I fall on the issue. Is it possible to be “genuine” without being “open”? It seems that’d only be possible if you genuinely care about being courteous. Assuming you don’t, then what? Then the more courteous you are, the less “real” you are, right? It becomes a matter of finding a balance, and I’m not sure how you do that.
I think what Anna might be getting at is that if you don’t genuinely care about being courteous, then that might be a sign that you have some work to do, because it might mean that you are lacking empathy or compassion or love.
On the other hand, being empathetic or compassionate or loving does not necessarily mean being polite. Sometimes the loving thing to do is to confront them in a way they probably won’t like.
Then again, a fart is not a loving confrontation, though it would be hilarious if it could somehow be used as one. Choosing not to fart in front of a spouse is simple sacrifice—giving up something you would like to do in order to prevent the other person from having to endure your smell.
Somehow I doubt farts are what Alain de Botton had in mind when he said this, but it seems perfectly fitting anyway:
To show ourselves 'as we truly are' - a terrifying treat we should spare most of humanity, especially anyone we claim to love.
I have no conclusions to leave you with, but this has been interesting to think about.
***
Somewhat relatedly, this discussion reminds me of the differences between individualist and collectivist cultures that I have been reading about in Sheena Iyengar's The Art of Choosing. Here is a somewhat re-worked passage describing how the cultures shape our identities and our values:
People raised in more individualist societies are primarily motivated by their own preferences, needs, rights, and the contracts they have established with others, and give priority to personal goals over the goals of others. Not only do people choose based on their own preferences, they also come to see themselves as defined by their individual interests, personality traits, and actions. (“I am a film buff” or “I am environmentally conscious.”) In this worldview, it’s critical that one be able to determine one’s own path in life in order to be a complete person, and any obstacle to doing so is seen as patently unjust.
Members of collectivist societies are taught to privilege the “we” in choosing, and they see themselves primarily in terms of the groups to which they belong, such as family, coworkers, village, or nation. They are primarily motivated by the norms of, and duties imposed by, those collectives and are willing to give priority to the goals of these collectives over their own personal goals, emphasizing above all else their connectedness to members of these collectives. Rather than looking out for number one, it’s believed that individuals can be happy only when the needs of the group as a whole are met.
Sounds awfully similar to the liberal vs. conservative divide. Perhaps we can conclude that conservatives are less likely to blow-dry their balls in public.
