My Word's Worth: a weekly column by Marylaine Block

vol.4, #12, September 28, 1998

THE EIGHT COMMANDMENTS

When I wrote a column for Fox a couple of weeks ago about our fascination with lists, I completely forgot about the oldest and most basic list in western civilization: the ten commandments. Thinking about this later, I realized that a lot of the rules for living that are important to me are not on God's top 10 list. Even the Golden Rule isn't there.

I think that's because the commandments are cast largely as "thou shalt nots". I suppose it's less demanding to ask people to simply refrain from doing certain things--I find no difficulty in obeying the ten commandments because I have never really been tempted to commit murder or adultery, or even (after being impressively bawled out when I stole candy at age 8) theft. But it's possible to abide by all ten commandments and still be nasty, mean-spirited people.

Commands that one perform positive actions, however, require day to day exertion and self-examination. That's a heavier burden, especially in a culture that encourages self-indulgence ("You deserve a break today") and discourages, or leaves scant time for, quiet reflection.

Naturally I started thinking about what my own ten, or six, or seventeen, commandments would be if I was starting it all from scratch.

I think my first commandment would have to be: CARE FOR THE CHILDREN. They did not ask to be brought into the world, but once they're here, they are utterly at our mercy. They cannot defend themselves against neglect or cruelty. No society can call itself civilized if it lives in bloated comfort while it allows its children to starve, to be exploited, or to grow up without hope. Even if the children are not our own, I would command a positive obligation to help them grow up strong and brave and good.

The benefit to us, aside from keeping us from moral bankruptcy, is that children are all potential. There is talent and imagination and genius and kindness inside them waiting to be cultivated by caring adults who will spend time with them, talking, listening, playing, and just loving them.

I think my second commandment would be: LISTEN TO EACH OTHER. We're very bad at it, you know. Often, we totally miss what people say to us because we're too busy thinking about what WE're going to say. And sometimes, of course, our views get in the way of understanding--we respond not to what the person said, but to what we THINK they said. (That's why I can't take my choleric Fox readers too much to heart--they don't seem to have actually read my columns.)

The reason listening matters is that, no matter what John Donne says, each man and woman IS an island. We each have our own separate mental landscapes, and mental barriers that can be as tough as any ocean to cross. But to be an island is to be lonely and vulnerable to the storms of life. We band together to give each other comfort and strength, and to learn from each other.

My third commandment is, BE KIND. If we like and admire somebody, we need to tell them that. We need to celebrate our friends' happiness with them, and lend an ear when they are troubled. Even when we're angry, or have to reprimand somebody, we need to handle it with politeness and respect. The benefit, of course, is that other people are more likely to listen to us, or do what we want, if we don't demean them.

But kindness is not enough without trust, without which there can be no real intimacy. So my one negative commandment is, THOU SHALT NOT BETRAY TRUST. Which is why I finally gave up on Bill Clinton--he lied to people who trusted him, and sent them out to lie on his behalf. He left them, and us, unable to trust him ever again.

I think my fifth commandment would be, in E.M. Forster's words, ONLY CONNECT. In a way that's what this column is all about. I'm connecting my odd bits and pieces of knowledge and experiences, and trying to make sense of them. When I come up with ideas, I have to test them out, because an idea that remains inside one person's head is useless. So I lay them out for you here, the opening gambit in a conversation, and wait to see who answers and what you have to tell me. Because your lives are different from mine, I learn from you, and my ideas ripen or perhaps change altogether--and I end up with friends I never otherwise would have met.

My sixth would be KEEP GROWING. There is so much to know about ourselves and the world, and so little time to know it in, that we should always keep our minds open to new knowledge and experience. And yet we wall ourselves off from it, with little self-putdowns ("that's too hard for me") or the blinders of culture ("You, um, relieve pain by having people stick needles in you, you say?") or gender ("women aren't tough enough to...", "men aren't sensitive enough to..."). Or with the fear of failure. But if we don't take risks, stretch ourselves, we'll never find out what we could become. We could start by actually doing one of the things we've always wished we'd been able to do--learn French, raft down the Colorado River, help Habitat for Humanity build a house...

And that applies to our characters, too. It's not too late to become wiser, more generous, less angry. True, by the time we are 40, our characters are pretty well fixed--but we can still tinker around the edges, fix a bad habit here, a little flaw there, become a little more our best self, a little less our worst. God knows, I'm still working on all my rough edges, trying to be a little less judgmental, trying to stop and think before I toss off a casual one-liner that might hurt somebody.

I like the imperative to WALK GENTLY ON THE EARTH. Our species has blundered around the planet like elephants run amok, inadvertently squashing smaller animals and trampling the green and tender shoots. It has taken us a long time to understand the interrelatedness of life, and the damage we have done. If there is to be anything left to pass on to our children, we have to understand we do not own the earth, but merely rent it--and with our current track record, God isn't about to give us back our rent deposit.

My eighth and last commandment is LAUGH A LOT. The world is such an entertaining place, and we are such a splendidly silly species, it would be a shame not to enjoy it all.

It's not that I don't agree with the original "thou shalt nots". But if we lived by my eight commandments, would the original "thou shalt nots" be necessary? Or, for that matter, if we lived by your ten or six or seventeen commandments, whatever they may be?