Tolerance and Altered States

I have a very low tolerance for drugs and alcohol, so I avoid them. I can't take so much as a decongestant without unpredictable and often drooling results. I have a very scientific theory about this, if you're interested. I think that my natural state is altered enough, thank you very much, and if I add any sort of chemical enhancement to this, things go completely haywire. I am afraid to mess with my equilibrium.

Altered states and tolerance.

Tolerance has become a buzzword. Generally it is trotted out when you think I am wrong and I want you to shut up. You should be more tolerant. If you were tolerant, you would just admit that I'm right. When we practice tolerance, it's usually of things and people with whom we already agree, or of whom we already approve. I am tolerant of children if they are well behaved. I am tolerant of people who disagree with me on matters about which I don't care a whole lot.

Tolerance. It sounds like it should have a "p" in front of it, like Ptolomy. Ptolerance. Maybe if we put a "p" in front of it, it would remind us to p-p-practice it. It would elevate it from a mere retaliatory talking point to an art, a science, a Philosophy.

Inherent in the definition of tolerance is disagreement. I would argue that it implies a sort of structural, atomic disagreement. I would argue that in order to tolerate something, you must reject it. Wait a second, that doesn't make any sense. No, it doesn't. But neither does tolerance when you think about it. It's unnatural. It is an altered state.

An example is in order here. I absolutely hated and despised the book Eat, Pray, Love. I thought it was whiny and self-indulgent; I thought the writing was only mediocre; I thought that the author spent a lot of money and a lot of time to learn nothing at all. Do you want to know how I really felt about it? The book was a bestseller. It was highly recommended to me by people whom I respect and love. Enough people loved it that Julia Roberts agreed to be in the movie version of it. I cannot fathom at all how all of these people could be so wrong. I have tried very, very hard to understand the liking - even loving - of this book and alas, I cannot. I fundamentally disagree with anyone who says it was a good book. Therefore, they are all idiots and I shall never speak to them again. I will degrade them and belittle them for having such abysmal taste in literature at every opportunity I get.  I will create opportunities to tell them how awful it was. This, of course, is ridiculous. What kind of jerk would act that way? Don't answer that.

When it's boiled down to something as relatively silly as an opinion about a book, it's kind of obvious, isn't it? Of course I can accept a difference in perspective. I don't have to believe that my assessment of it is wrong to understand that other people might have reached a different conclusion. Nor do I have to believe that my assessment is the only correct view of the book. Of the friends who recommended the book to me, one was at a particular place in her life where elements of the story "spoke to her", another just liked the descriptions of the food and the places. Fair enough. There needn't be any judgement in that, really. They live in their heads, in their lives and they know what works for them. We practice tolerance of each other's points of view because we love each other and because that's more important to the greater good than whether or not we enjoy the exact same books.

It gets trickier, though. I know this. The root of intolerance, I believe, is fear. We are intolerant of things that we perceive as a threat to our well-being or way of life. We don't want our equilibrium upset. We are afraid of the unpredictable, perhaps drooling, results of the viewpoints of others.

There are some things that shouldn't be tolerated: murder, dishonesty, theft, injustice. Yet, we sometimes find ourselves tolerating them by default. My jBird told me a lie a few weeks ago. I will admit, I completely lost it, folks. "I will not tolerate lying in my house!" boomed the Mama voice. But I do, don't I? What can I do but put up with it when it happens? I can correct, instruct, fume and rage about, but when it comes down to it, I must tolerate it because I have no control whatsoever of the things that my jBird chooses to say. I can only control how I react, the input I give her, and the encouragement I show for doing what's right. The rest is up to her.

That's the root of that intolerant fear, isn't it? The rest is up to her. We are so convinced of our rightness. We are so sure that ours is the way things should go. If only they could just see how it is. If only they would just admit they are wrong. It is frightening to leave it up to them. It upsets our equilibrium. Except when you realize that you are them. To someone else, you are them. You are the they who have it so backwards. I don't care what your stance on anything at all is, you are someone's them. The idea of you making up your mind on your own is keeping someone else awake at night. And you know what? They are every bit as committed to their viewpoint as you are. They believe with all their hearts that their beliefs are valid. They fear for their future just like you do. They worry about the state of things, they get excited when things seem to go their way, they have their doubts, their discouragements, their concerns, just like you.

So, tolerance. Or, if you prefer, ptolerance. Does it mean you lay aside your own opinion, your own beliefs? Absolutely not. Who are we if not a product of our beliefs and preferences? I guess that's the rub, though. We are all that product, which means we are all as different as the ingredients that make us up. We can't control anyone except ourselves. The rest is up to them. And that's tolerance in a nutshell, isn't it? I may think you've misjudged. I may not be able to understand at all where you are coming from in spite of trying. I may believe exactly the opposite about something and you won't be able to persuade me otherwise. I may even offer suggestions to you about how to see it my way. But when all is said and done, tolerance is my understanding that the rest is up to you and that's all right.

I am speaking of personal tolerance, here. In the end, it is the only sort of tolerance there is. As fanciful as it may seem, there is a vast human civilization out there who operate or have operated for millennia under immensely different codes of law, types of government, living conditions. We can legislate all the tolerance we want, but if it is not found in the hearts of the citizens, the law is difficult to uphold. I am not talking about voting here. I am talking about how you decide to live regardless of circumstance. Expressing your tolerance with your vote is a terribly important thing, but even more important is expressing your tolerance with your life. With your everyday interactions. You cannot blame lawmakers for your reactions to those who disagree with you any more than my jBird can blame me for lying to me. That part is up to you. It is always up to you.

Tolerance is seeing the person behind the belief; it is thinking in terms of individuals rather than stereotypes. It is accepting your own doubts and understanding that you could be wrong, but you choose to believe you are right. It is knowing that other people are doing the same thing. It is listening for what people are actually saying rather than hearing what you expect. It is disagreeing right down to your very core and accepting the possible validity anyway.

It is not our gut reaction, it is an altered state.