Selective Cynicism—A Path for Healing

Has anyone else noticed the cynicism that underlies much of what is happening in our political circus? I’m sure you have. I got to thinking about it this morning when I read in The Huffington Post, “Trump Stooge Finally Folds.”  

This refers, of course, to the administrator of the G.S.A., Emily Murphy, finally certifying the election results 20 days after the election, and 16 days after the media certified Joseph R. Biden, Jr. and Kamala Harris as President- and Vice President-Elect. 

Here’s the thing, though. Ms. Murphy allegedly wrote to Mr. Biden, “Please know that I came to my decision independently, based on the law and the available facts.” 

My cynicism kicked in. Yeah, right, I’m sure. 

Except, despite the fact that I can be cynical, I’m not a cynic, not by a long shot, I’m a relentless optimist as a rule, an inveterate re-framer of narrative from negative to positive. 

Here’s what the Wikis say about classical, philosophical cynicism, “For the Cynics, the purpose of life is to live in virtue, in agreement with nature. As reasoning creatures, people can gain happiness by rigorous training and by living in a way which is natural for themselves, rejecting all conventional desires for wealth, power, and fame. Instead, they were to lead a simple life free from all possessions.” 

Well, given that definition, that’s exactly what Emily Murphy was doing, isn’t it? Living in what she considered virtue in agreement with her own nature. Living in virtue means living true to yourself. Can any of us be asked to do otherwise?  

Here’s Wiki’s contemporary take, “Cynicism is an attitude characterized by a general distrust of others' motives. A cynic may have a general lack of faith or hope in the human species or people motivated by ambition, desire, greed, gratification, materialism, goals, and opinions that a cynic perceives as vain, unobtainable, or ultimately meaningless and therefore deserving of ridicule or admonishment.” 

General distrust of others’ motives. Isn’t that what my reaction to Ms. Murphy’s letter says?  

I don’t trust your motives, Ms. Murphy. 

When my grandmother arrived in her 80s, she needed hearing aids. At the time, despite their claim to hugely advanced technology, the little gadgets were constantly malfunctioning, sending high-pitched squeals and squeaks into the midst of conversation whereupon my grandmother would have to stop everything to handle the latest hearing aid crisis. 

My grandmother was an elegant lady. She was also a smart lady. Grandma learned to use those hearing aids and their penchant for malfunction to her marked advantage.  

To this day, I’m willing to bet that they didn’t malfunction even half as much as Grandma said. No, I think she used them to practice selective hearing. And believe me, her talent at the game was gold-medal Olympian. Seriously. 

Conversation would take a turn that Grandma didn’t like, (now that I think of it, often on a political tack) and as reliably as Greenwich Mean Time, her hearing aids would fail. It got so my mom and I would bet on it. And behind closed doors, did we ever laugh! 

But those hearing aids and my response to Emily Murphy brought me up short this morning. See, if Grandma practiced selective hearing, then what my reaction constituted was selective cynicism. Yeah, I know. Ouch. 

I got to thinking about it, and you know, it’s true. I am a selective cynic. I’ve counseled people for more than 35 years, and am an intuitive to boot. When something doesn’t ring true to me, that small ball of interior, selective cynicism raises its ugly little head. 

For make no mistake, cynicism, as currently practiced in our country, is indeed ugly. Oh, yes, I mean the results are ugly, no question, but worse, I started to see what cynicism looks like on the inside of those who practice it. Even me. 

It’s anguishing, honestly. The cynicism of today means that those who live that way are never, ever safe, must always be on their guard, can never let go and relax and trust that things will be okay.

Anu Garg writes five of the most delightful emails of my every week called Word-A-Day. At the end of each word he profiles, there’s a quote. Here’s today’s: To understand is not to forgive. It is simply better than the alternative, which is not to understand. Alec Nove, economist, author, and professor (24 Nov 1915-1994).  

Mr. Garg and Mr. Nove put me and my little cynical self right back in front of Emily Murphy’s desk. I understand how Ms. Murphy inhabited the place she has for the past two weeks and two days. It’s a ripe case of cynicism. 

And if I’ve got it, I think I can safely posit that so do we all to a certain extent. Perhaps cynicism is the emotional pattern underneath Covid-19? I’ve been a medical intuitive for a goodly number of decades and that rings true to me. 

Contemporary cynicism refutes the notion that we are all connected. It can’t allow for that, Beloved, because if we are, we have a mandate to care for one another. Contemporary cynicism severs connection, severs recognition that we need care, and that we need to care for one another. If the coronavirus hasn’t taught us that, we may as well all give up and die in our personal, isolated, cynical hells. 

Selective cynicism is a subset of contemporary cynicism. In my case, it allowed me to disconnect from the need to understand Ms. Murphy and her letter. 

The next time you find yourself practicing selective cynicism, Beloved, stop. Look at the situation and see if you can identify the connection that your reaction is attempting to sever.  

Now switch to the compassion channel, the empathy channel, in your heart. There lies the road to connection and the redemption of our world. 

Dr. Susan Corso is a spiritual teacher, the founder of iAmpersand, and the author of The Mex Mysteries, the Boots & Boas Books, and spiritual nonfiction. Her website is susancorso.com.