"Seven to eleven is a huge chunk of life, full of dulling and forgetting. It is fabled that we slowly lose the gift of speech with animals, that birds no longer visit our windowsills to converse. As our eyes grow accustomed to sight they armor themselves against wonder." - Leonard Cohen
The fact that a person has the ability to get accustomed to anything might be the largest reason the concepts of heaven and hell do not make much sense to me. This thought coming from a logical standpoint over a theological standpoint, since the two are often at odds.
I imagine a billowy cloud with everything I could want on it…endless cheese, peanut butter, weed, baseball games and scottie dogs. But eventually, I'd get used to it. I'd want more or less of what I have, it's simply human nature. And begrudgingly, I still have to be honest and check homo sapien on my census report.
Not to mention hell. Masochism, I figure…has to be a learned and nurtured trait in most humans. Because of this, eventually you might grow fond of the steady heat of fire and brimstone…and according to the film 'Little Nicky', pineapples up your asshole.
I've recently watched doctors and nurses work a lot, which brought up this thought in the first place. Though they can come off forbidding and cavalier on the prognosis of a human you love dearly, I can understand how they become accustomed. Eventually numb, maybe bored. They still need to come home after work and manage to compartmentalize what they saw all day. Not bringing that pain and agony you see back home with you.
I can relate in a similar sort of way. I have a job that's incredible and unique. What I get to do is special and rare and fueled by drastic physical and emotional responses on each side of the stage. But, through the years, I've eventually grown accustomed to it. I can't lie and say that at times, my mind hasn't wandered. I'm usually tied to every note in a very cathartic way. But...maybe once or twice, on the 486th show during Great Expectations, I thought about the standings of the NBA Eastern Conference…or, will Ian eat all the pizza before I'm done showering later?
In a former reality I used to beg people to book and enjoy my bands. I was ecstatic if someone who wasn't my friend bought a demo or a t-shirt. Trying to accrue fans one by one by one. Now it's possible to walk into an undersold House of Blues somewhere and manage to muster up a feeling of regrettable disappointment. How that happened? I don't know…but it happened. A particular example of how a human can view themselves in dangerous ways without the appropriate checks and balances in their life.
Life is funny like that. Humans are some adaptable motherfuckers. One of the reasons I still have hope in my species is our ability to adapt and grow accustomed and move on. But, if there is a heaven or hell…I imagine it HAS to be something so far beyond human perception, because anything inside of the human paradox can get old.
