Musings - Help Yourself

~by Mark Blackwell

I recently came across a rather startling factoid, namely, that there are about 15,000 selfhelp books published every year. And that doesn’t even cover the DVDs, YouTube videos, podcasts, and TED Talks. That, to me, indicates that there is a whole lot of dissatisfaction out there.

Self-improvement, it appears, has been front and center for the human condition since the beginning of things. The Bible tells us about how Eve took the advice of a serpent on bettering her condition, and folks have been taking bad advice from snakes ever since. And speaking of religion, it pretty much had a lock on inspiring discontent for several millennia, that is, until modern advertising came along.

It’s one thing to be declared a congenital sinner in need of salvation by the church, but according to the advertising folks you’re not just a sinner, you are an unfashionable, overweight sinner with dandruff, halitosis, a smelly house and constipation. Your cake is not moist or fluffy enough, and your fried chicken is too greasy. Now our devices tell us about all kinds of diseases we may be suffering from without even knowing it.

It’s getting so bad that a person doesn’t have time to do much more than ask their doctor if this, that, or some other medication is right for you. But, even if it might be right for you, you need to discontinue using the stuff, with a name you can’t pronounce, if you experience foaming at the mouth, a numbness in your lower extremities, fainting, or sudden death. See your doctor.

Do you see what I’m getting at? It ain’t natural to be so disaffected by a person’s lot in life. It takes other folks to point out your shortcomings. You take your average five-year-old boy for example; he is not perturbed in the least if his socks don’t match or his pants have holes in them. He doesn’t care if his ears are dirty enough to sprout potatoes or he is sporting a chocolate donut and milk mustache. None of these things affect his natural joie de vivre. That’s what schools are for.

There comes a day when that boy wakes up to face frequent bathing, regular haircuts, and a dress code. (It makes me wonder if the whole school situation is just preparation in case you find yourself inducted into the military.) Sit up, don’t slump! You’ll wind up with bad posture. Don’t pick your nose! Quit daydreaming! Pay attention! Quit squirming! It all adds up to; You’re not good enough!

And that’s where it starts, the introduction of self-doubt. That’s where they get you. You start wondering if your teeth are white enough. Are you getting enough vitamins? Should I join the Hair Club for Men. Am I suffering from low “T?” There is no end to these doubts, and it all comes down to the question, “Am I becoming neurotic?”

It is within living memory, that kids couldn’t even enjoy a simple comic book because the exciting conclusion of the story was preempted by “the world’s most perfectly developed man,” Charles Atlas, fist on hips, asking whether we were tired of being 97-pound weaklings. These sorts of things have a seriously negative affect on the human happiness quotient.

But a funny thing happened to kids in the late 1960s. They began to rebel against the imposition of low self esteem and conformity that was bombarding them from the media to academia. The new ethos was to get back to the land, live frugally, and create new communities. They were ready to trade self doubt for self reliance. And more than a few of them wound up in Brown County.

Somehow or another, word got around about a place with cheap land, where you could build a cabin, grow a garden and live “the good life.” And it turned out to be a place anchored by a village where one could sell handicrafts and art. It was a place with a reputation for good, old-time music where you might do a little busking. Of course that place was/is Brown County.

A major reason the county appeared to be viable for a lifestyle unmolested by modernity is that folks had been living that way since before it was a county. When the artist T. C. Steele discovered it in 1907 and touted its natural beauty to his friends and fellow artists, Brown County was, in many ways, still existing in the 19th Century.

Changes came slowly to the county. The inhabitants tended to regard modernity with a fair amount of skepticism and were not in a hurry to adopt many of the worst aspects of it. So, when some urban refugees found their way here in the 1960s, they found a place that was a pretty good fit for their do-it-yourself, who cares what the world thinks philosophy.

That set of values still permeates the atmosphere here. Self help equals self reliance and, according to Ralph W. Emerson, self reliance builds character. You are welcome to come on down to the hills o’ Brown and help yourself to some country contentment.