Ignorance is bliss

One of the most fascinating aspects of growing older is how clichés become reality.

I think of those phrases and truisms you hear all your life. From TV, film, friends, parents, wherever. An example might be “keeping up with the Jones.” As a kid, I understood this principle. You want to have what your friends have.

But sometime during my adult life, I experienced the seductive power of status, of gathering things and caring too deeply about how those things defined me, vis a vis my peers. That’s when I understood the cliché at a visceral level – and began to grasp the problems of living that way.

So there’s a reason these phrases have weathered the test of time: The universal and human principle of truth each contains.

This year, I’m experiencing the truth of “ignorance is bliss.” At least the truth for me.

Because 2009’s steady drumbeat of economic woes rob me of the bliss that comes with living in the moment. Perhaps this says more about my perspective and priorities.

But this year, I recognize how much of a drag this constant stream of gloomy news and dismal economic indicators is on my spirit. By their very nature, they transport you to the past and the future, out of the present moment.

And I resent those who force this news on me.

Chief offenders in my daily life are the big screen TVs in our downtown office building lobby that broadcast CNN, presumably to fill those idle seconds of its tenants waiting for the elevator. (Honorable mention goes to the blowhard at last week’s Mavericks game who forced his loud and unsolicited pessimistic economic opinions on all of us seated in section 119.)

In a day and age where news can be obtained in an instant from our handheld devices, this “push” tactic of content feels increasingly anachronistic. Especially when the content being pushed is lousy news, and, for me, comes with the personal subtext of poor investment decisions, hemorrhaging retirement funds, and my kids’ future.

My refuge from this distracting noise is the museum, a short walk from the building. It’s there I find inspiration in watching the children playing in the courtyard. Of course, these school kids are blissfully unaware of recession, market turmoil and the government’s grim employment outlook. In their oblivion, they experience the joy and play in their midst.

Inspired, I tried a media fast Wednesday. Away from the day’s toxic news my mood lightened. My senses sharpened. My food tasted better, the sun felt warmer, and, in the absence of roses, I sat and smelled the coffee. I was truly enjoying the day.

Of course it is this unplugging that makes our annual retreat to the New Mexico mountains so glorious. What a treat to experience that high-altitude feeling midweek in a flat urban environment. The simplicity of living in the moment. The joy of the present.

Indeed, the bliss of ignorance.