What’s Wrong With Being “Just Fine”?
One big difference beween children and adults is that the latter often possesses a permanent defense mechanism known as being “fine.” Whenever I hear someone say that they are fine, usually in response to “how are you,” I get a little uncomfortable. “Fine,” to me, is like saying “I’m hanging in there.” It implies that the person is living out of habit, not out of enthusiasm.
If you ask a five year-old how he is doing, he will either not answer you (because the concept of summing up his entire state of being is a little abstract for him) or carelessly chirp “good” because he’s heard his parents say it so many times before. Either way, the question is meaningless to him.
Yet it is not the emptiness of the “how are you” ritual that concerns me. It is the fact that many adults are actually being truthful when they report their fineness. They honestly feel a middle-of-the-road, neither good nor bad, automatic existence.
Where does fineness come from? When does it develop? It seems to start as early as the teenage years, and derives from being forced to do things you don’t want to do. It also compounds over time. A common example is attending a good college because it makes your parents proud, going straight to graduate school because it seems like the right thing to do, then working your way up the corporate ladder one rung at a time in order to amass wealth. Although there are very few people who actually enjoy this process, lots of people do it because they are afraid to stray from the beaten path. After all, that routine is fairly certain to lead to financial stability, respect from the community, and, well...a perfectly fine life.
Although not all adults are afflicted with fineness, many are. Every day I interact with people that strike me as being spiritless. Personally, I would much prefer to be depressed than to be fine, for at least depression is a normal, healthy part of the emotional cycle. Fineness is being closed off; it rules out the possibility of ecstatic happiness or sadness.
To me, living a good, old-fashioned, hard-working existence is frighteningly boring. Having to narrow the infinite possibilities of each day down to just one activity that you don’t necessarily like has to take its toll on your ideals. We all have to work, of course. And if you can do the nine-to-five and still come home giddy and ready to embrace life, good for you; but generally, when a person puts his dreams in check for a long enough time, he loses his vitality.
I say, screw feeling fine every day. Do what you want to do. Feel great, feel frolicsome, feel eccentric - even feel mopey or depressed. But for your own sake, don’t close yourself off to the wonderful spectrum of feelings you were given as a child. Those who allow themselves to nod off into neutrality by living a life that doesn’t make them happy aren’t just “stabilizing” themselves; they are limiting the very magnitude of their emotions.
Whenever I am faced with a difficult decision, I ask my five year-old self his opinion. In all the times I’ve sought his advice, he’s never told me to maintain a long-term responsibility that doesn’t make me happy. Some adults will inform you that in the real world there are real obligations and they must be taken seriously - but you can ignore those adults. In any situation, the best results will come from waking up every day with fresh motivation, excited about life.
In the US, it seems, folks ask others how they “are doing” as a courtesy, instead of saying hi – or nothing at all. They don’t care. But they ask. As you point out, it’s because we think we should say those things (do those things) so we do – but we don’t care. Thus people are ‘fine.’
I ran into a fellow at work who wouldn’t acknowledge me. If I asked how he was, he just looked at me. It infuriated me until I realized (no offense) I didn’t care. I was just asking because it is like saying ‘hello’ and so you won’t be perceived as rude.
A friend called and left me a message; on the message he teased me because I ended my ‘corporate’ voice mail recording by saying ‘have a great day.’ He thought that was quite funny; he’s from Ireland. If you ran into him in the hall, and he didn’t know you, he wouldn’t respond to your question about how he was either – although he might say ‘hey’ particularly if you two shared a rugby match or two ahead.
It’s a twisted thing we do – yet I don’t know why we do it. I guess to balance our self worth (or a portion of it) – as if we control other peoples’ reactions to us. If their reaction is bad, we must be bad as well.
In reality, I am not responsible for how you react. I’m only responsible for the intent of what I do – if you receive it differently than it’s intended that’s your bailiwick…not mine. Yet our society thinks we are responsible for everything and everyone, and we teach that to our children. To a degree we are responsible to the universe and to doing the best we can, yes. To be the best we can and to do things that are ‘filled with goodness and light’ but no – we are not responsible for what others do, or interpret based on their mood or state of mind. To say so is absurd.
So, perhaps ‘fine’ is a way of not appearing rude – but is really the result of people asking a question they care nothing about?