For the first time I can remember, I read a piece of political analysis today that stopped me in my tracks. I’m used to reading blogs or editorials with an eye out for political overtones. I expect most commentary to skew one way or the other, either Right or Left, with the author championing “their team” and trying to wag the dog in some effort to distract from some form of hypocrisy. But today… today I read something that struck me to my core. It’s 2am, and I’m still thinking about something I read at one this afternoon.
The post that shook me came from a surprising author on a surprising site. Rabbi Shumuley Boteach, on the Huffington Post, dropped a logic bomb that I didn’t see coming. In his post, he alleged that Representative Weiner was not only self-destructive but also had a death wish. He went on to say that “without the bells and whistles of success Weiner sees himself as non-existent”. That’s the part that haunts me. Really, the whole thing is a good read, but that’s the point that’s lodged itself in my head, and I’ve continued to dwell on it.
Anthony Weiner will not resign. They’ll have to push him out, pry his cold hands from the door of his Congressional office. In his mind this seat is all he has. It defines him. Take it away and in his mind he becomes the proverbial tree in the forest that falls without anyone witnessing or hearing it. Without the bells and whistles of success Weiner sees himself as non-existent. No doubt he fears that his wife will leave him as well, convinced as he is that she only married him because of his office. -Rabbi Shmuley Boteach
Why do I relate to this? Why do I feel some kind of connection with a man who has disgraced himself, his constituents and to a degree, an entire branch of our government? I can tell you why… Not that long ago, I myself was self-destructive and felt nonexistent.
From time to time, I’ve mentioned on here that I was once in the Armed Forces, but I’ve never mentioned why I no longer am. Before we get too ahead of ourselves, I’ll give you a spoiler: My discharge was 100% honorable, so there’s nothing dubious, and there’s no scandal. That’s not the part of Weiner’s plight that I identify with. Where he and I connect is that we both let our careers give us (a possibly unhealthy amount) of our self worth.
I’ve wrestled with how to tell this story in a pithy and tasteful way, so I will say this: I suffered a series of (non-combat) injuries that cut short my career. I tried to stay in the Service to no avail, as things finally reached a point where I could no longer perform my duties in the manner I needed to. And now I’m not doing the only thing I dreamed of doing my whole life.
For me, the military was like going to the Olympics. It was like winning an Oscar every day of my life. My worst day in the military was better than most of my good days since. When I left, I suffered a denial that was so strong that I was out for eight months before I really let it hit me. I kid you not, I found myself in the parking lot of a Jack in the Box, crying so hard that I couldn’t feel my arms. I was on my way to the V.A. Hospital to do physical therapy, and it was starting to sink in that I was never going to “matter” as much as I used to.
Honestly, I don’t know why Anthony Weiner did what he did. He and I did things backwards from one another. His self destructiveness started while he was a (very) successful member of Congress. Mine started after my career was hopelessly gone.
I didn’t dwell on Rabbi Shmuley’s piece or begin writing this one because I wanted share all of the details of my personal life (and really, I don’t). But I did realize that millions of Americans might never know what it’s like to let your career define you so thoroughly that if it ended, you could honestly not care less whether you lived or died. And believe me, there is a difference between being suicidal and just being indifferent to what happens to you. I was like a rudderless ship in the ocean. I wasn’t trying to steer it onto the rocks, I just wasn’t trying to direct it anywhere at all. I let the sea do with me as it would.
I’ve often described my thoughts on the situation like this: Imagine a painter who loses his eye sight. He can never paint or look at paintings again. When he wakes up, he will no longer find inspiration in the sunrise. Colors will literally not have meaning to him again… Now imagine he eventually begins a new life and learns to play piano. Imagine that he plays so beautifully that he becomes a sought after pianist and wins many awards. You would think that even though he cannot paint anymore, that his new life would be thrilling nonetheless. He’s being invited to play piano for kings and queens and presidents. He’s on grocery store magazine covers, and he’s being flown all over the world. Surely, his new life is something that brings him joy. Well… Based on my experiences, I’d say it’s possible that it might not.
See… Ever since I’ve been out of the service, I haven’t been able to even *imagine* something else that would satisfy me. And believe me, I’ve tried. I think the closest thing I’ve come up with is to own a race track, and to be honest, I wouldn’t know the first thing about how to make it happen. There is simply not anything I can think of doing that would fulfill me as much as being in the military did. And it’s sad, really, because it implies that I don’t hold anyone else’s job or position in high regard, and that’s not true. I think plenty of jobs are great, and plenty of people who do them are great too. I just wouldn’t find joy in doing them. I could win a Pulitzer prize for this blog (do they even offer those for blogs?), and all I would do is think it’s neat that someone cared about “this thing I do while I’d rather be doing that thing I used to do”.
Which brings me full circle… I never thought I would relate to Anthony Weiner, but I do. I don’t condone, celebrate, or endorse his actions, but I do know what it’s like to be defined by your career. And… I know what it’s like to be so attached to your career that the thought of losing it would make you irrational.
I wrote this because our society has liked to gloss over complex issues. We’ve liked to say either “Weiner did nothing wrong; it was just a picture”. Or we’ve said “If he lied to his wife, then he’s going to lie to the rest of us”. But those two views are honestly too simple to adequately describe this. And to be honest with you, I think that our society is reaching a turning point. I think collectively, we are capable of a deeper analysis of issues than we previously have been. I think the days of “soundbite analysis” are becoming obsolete. One reason that history keeps repeating itself may be that we haven’t adequately explained why events ever happened in the first place. Rabbi Shmuley’s piece hit me so hard because he didn’t take the easy path with what he said. He did not try to defend Weiner, nor did he try to demonize him. He simply shined a light into a place that we normally would not think to look. And what I saw in that light resonated with me in ways I still cannot articulate with you, try as I might.
For what it’s worth, I am not advocating that journalism as we know it (blogs included) transform over night. I’m not saying that we are, or that we have, been “doing it wrong”. But I do think that some issues require a deeper analysis than what we give them. I think there’s room for pieces like what the Rabbi wrote, and in fact I would go so far as to say they are not only relevant, but they are important. I welcome Shmuley’s piece, and I feel the better for reading it.
