I am much prone to catastrophizing.
When the war in Ukraine broke out, the worst possible outcome was global thermonuclear war. After all, Russia had nuclear weapons and no one knew when they might use them. For the first few months of the war, my fear was so all-consuming that it really made it hard for me to function.
The removal of Kevin McCarthy as Speaker of the House and discussion of Donald Trump as an alternate candidate raised another fear. Suppose Donald Trump threw his hat into the ring. What Republican would dare gainsay him? And when the current continuing resolution ran out, how long till Trump realized that he was third in line to the and had the country by the jugular? Why, he could refuse to bring any funding bill the the floor, shut down the government, and refuse to let it open until Biden and Harris both resigned so he could be President. Again, what Republican would gainsay him?
Apparently the Republicans told Trump that nomination would be by secret ballot, so Republicans could defy him behind the cloak of anonymity, and seek the safety of numbers. So Trump withdrew as a candidate and endorsed Jim Jordan. And much as I hate the prospect of Jim Jordan as Speaker, at least I am not afraid that he will do that.
That allowed me about a day of relief, and then Hammas launched its ghastly slaughter of Israeli citizens, and now there is a whole new thing to catastrophize.
So what is the worst case scenario here? Not as bad as the war in Ukraine. Israel's opponents do not have nuclear weapons. So if the Israelis decide to bomb Lebanon and take out Hezbollah's rockets, or to invade and crush Hezbollah once and for all, they will not have to fear nuclear retaliation. The worst case scenario appears to be a region-wide war, presumably between Israel and Iran, with other powers swept in.
Maybe I am being wildly optimistic here, but that seems unlikely, given the distance between the two powers. But no one doubts that things will get a lot uglier in the very near future.
To get through the crisis in Ukraine, I distracted myself by binge watching Gilbert and Sullivan and took solace in, of all things, C.S. Lewis's Screwtape Letters -- a series of letters by a senior devil giving a junior devil advice on how to tempt a Christian soul. The particular "patient" in the correspondence is a young man in London during WWII -- a highly anxiety-provoking time. Two of the letters, numbers 6 and 15, address the issue of anxiety and why a Christian should not worry about the future (or place too much hope in it). The point here is not that God will send you to Hell for worrying too much, but that constant fear and anxiety is deadening to the spiritual life, which seems fair to say.*
Letter 6 deals with the "patient" facing the anxiety of not knowing whether he would be drafted.
We want him to be in the maximum uncertainty, so that his mind will be filled with contradictory pictures of the future, every one of which arouses hope or fear. There is nothing like suspense and anxiety for barricading a human's mind against the Enemy [God]. . . . It is your business to see that the patient never thinks of the present fear as his appointed cross, but only the things he is afraid of. Let him regard them as his crosses: let him forget that, since they are incompatible, they cannot all happen to him, and let him try to practice fortitude and patience to then all in advance. For real resignation, at the same moment, to a dozen different and hypothetical fates, is almost impossible, and the enemy does not greatly assist those who are trying to attain it.
Letter 15 takes place during a lull in the war, with a corresponding lull in the "patient's" anxiety. It introduces a concept I really cannot wrap my head around -- that spirits live in an eternity that exists outside of linear time, and thus do not have a past, present and future. "For the Present is the point at which time touches eternity. of the present moment, and of it only, humans have an experience analogous to the experience which our Enemy has of reality as a whole."
But the whole premise of the novel presupposes linear time. The devils seek to tempt the "patient," not knowing what outcome will be, either in the short run as to how he will respond, or in the long run whether he goes to Heaven or Hell. (Spoiler alert: The "patient" escapes his tempter and makes it to Heaven).
The author goes not to say that even the past, because it is known and fixed, bears some resemblance to eternity. The future, being unknown, is the least like eternity. Thus a lull in anxiety spiritually healthy if it means the "patient" is focusing solely on the present and letting the future take care of itself. It threatens the "patient's" soul if it means he is convinced that the current lull is permanent "because it is only piling up more disappointment, and therefore more impatience, for him when his false hopes are dashed."
The ideal spiritual state is to focus on the present, but be aware that disaster may strike again and pray for the strength to face whatever lies ahead. That is an extremely difficult balance to maintain and not tip over into anxiety or complacency. It is an even harder balance to strike for a non-believer like myself. The nearest I can come to that is the reminder that:
- There is nothing you can do about the situation. Focus on what you can do something about.
- Anxiety does no good; it only makes you miserable; and
- Anxiety of that kind really is self-centered. (I am surprised that Lewis did not raise the point, since he sees self-centered-ness as being the root of all sin).
*I was myself struck by how self-centered my anxiety was. A massive catastrophe was unfolding in a faraway country, and I was making it all about myself.
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