Thinking. A Lost Art?

I am sitting here in the early, peaceful, quiet, serene hour listening to the thunderstorms over the Gulf of Mexico a short distance away in a much-appreciated spot of “cooler” air brought by the rain and … thinking. A beautiful graceful Egret just flew by, heading East, and shortly after an Osprey flew by headed west, bringing “the catch of the day” to his little ones in their nest nearby. We are truly blessed to have such a nice setting for… just thinking. A myriad of different thoughts kept flying through my mind, some of which were those typically associated with persons of advanced age — memories (many and lovely), regrets (I have a few), those near and dear (and those far and dear), what we are leaving behind for our precious children and theirs (not a pretty sight), and just letting my mind roam at will among the mists of time. As these moments unfurl, one pervasive thought kept returning to me as I pondered my place in the universe and where I would wind up in it—how little we of this age of incessant noise and clatter and distractions spend…. thinking. Just thinking. Call it by whatever name you choose — Meditation? Contemplation? Wondering? — but the current, and louder and louder, and, in recent years, more violent and dangerous cacophony of our world leaves woefully little slivers of time for just… thinking.

In 1985 a remarkably prescient book was published which illustrates the hole in our lives that I perceive. The book was Amusing Ourselves to Death by Neil Postman. Although it was published almost 40 years ago, it reads like a report by an excellent investigative journalist on our present time. And that author had never heard of the iPhone, iPad, X-boxes, Netflix, Apple Watches, and all the other so-very-important attractions demanding — that is the precise word for the phenomenon I have in mind — our immediate attention or else. Or else what? I don’t pretend to have an answer, but it is certainly worth thinking about.

We – My Lady Judith and I – are now officially in our “Sunset Years” and view with concern, at times alarm, groups of young people sitting together texting each other on their phones — not conversing. How many generations are left who will retain the gift of conversation — in the South, we refer to it as “just visiting.”

How long is it going to take for an entire generation to be numbed to insensitivity about the latest mass murder de jour? Or, as the late Sen. Daniel Moynihan referred to it in his 1993 essay, “Defining Deviancy Down”? Or to view the latest burning of large areas of American cities in riots with a shrug as “just another day,” or, “It’s just politics,” or, “They’re just ‘peacefully’ demonstrating for social justice.” Or to view savage mobs of thugs causing untold damage to society, demonstrating in favor of the animals who slaughtered 1,200 Israelis last October with callous indifference? I don’t pretend to have an answer but it is certainly worth thinking about.

How many more generations of children can we have who see all around them evidence of open and obvious lying and deep corruption, of officials not only ignoring the rule of law but hubristically sneering at it, judges openly ignoring both the law and their oath of office, highly placed families selling their souls to America’s most dangerous adversary before faith in our institutions is at best a distant memory and at worst just a bad joke? As one prominent observer recently noted: “Our institutions are rotten.” I don’t pretend to have an answer but it is certainly worth thinking about.

How many more generations will we have who will know how to write a proper letter — write, not type — a sympathy card or a congratulatory note considering that cursive is no longer taught in the schools? Perhaps it’s not overly gloomy to wonder whether this might be the last one. I don’t pretend to have an answer, but it is certainly worth thinking about.

How many more generations will it take before displays of simple gentlemanly good manners such as holding a door for a lady, or her chair as she is being seated, be so viewed askance as to be considered aberrant behavior giving rise to some kind of cancellation or more formal reprimand? For that matter, how long before the words “gentleman” and “lady” will be met with a more kinetic response than just a roll of the eyes?

True story: My Lady and I went to a bank to conduct some business and after parking the car, sheer instinct moved me to open the door for her. I repeated that action when we returned to the car. We found out later that several of the ladies (note to “wokesters,” I have always used that word and will never, never use such inanities as “birthing persons.” Never. Period. Full stop.) gathered at a window facing the parking lot to witness a basic act of chivalry as if it were some kind of bizarre circus act. How long before that act of simple good manners may be so out of style as to be verboten? I don’t pretend to have an answer but it is certainly worth thinking about.

How many generations are left who will thrill to a performance of — to select a tiny sample from thousands of magnificent compositions — the indescribable drama of the opening four notes of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony or the tender, lilting notes of Brahms’ Violin Concerto in a live concert by a symphony orchestra? (We are supporters of our local symphony orchestra organization and I try to attend every performance I possibly can.) As John Adams reminded us, “facts are stubborn things,” and the simple fact is that fewer and fewer young people consider classical music an important part of their lives. Many orchestras have “gone dark” in recent decades. How many will be left two generations from now? I don’t pretend to have an answer but it is certainly worth thinking about.

How many more generations will remain strong enough to resist the incessant drumbeat that America is evil, chants of moronic mobs yelling idiotic phrases like “Ho! Ho! Western Civ has to go,” being drowned in “music” advocating the most abominable of human acts and witnessing the kind of sleazy corruption at the highest levels of government, in which our “leaders” not only openly defy rulings of the highest Court in the land but threaten its members with clear threats of harm if they do not rule the way the “elite” want them to rule.

Scholars of such eminence as Victor Davis Hanson have been publishing laments along these lines for years, and one of his most recent books is entitled The Dying Citizen. Thus, these thoughts are simply my random ruminations on the current panoply of issues that have been developing — and rotting —for many generations. For many of us, the upcoming election offers some hope that at the very least work may resume on repairing some of these conditions. However, the decay runs so deep there is little realistic hope that a one-term presidency will reverse all these problem areas.

As I have been careful to note throughout, I may have no answers but our polity must find them if our Republic is to survive. A brilliant man said not long ago that if something cannot continue, it won’t. These conditions will cause the collapse of our beloved nation if the rot from within continues; ergo, they cannot be allowed to continue.

God Bless America!