“OK,” you may be thinking after you finished reading my explanation the other day.
“I get what you’re saying,” you may think further, “Life is often made worse by the little things – or by several little things snowballing into a Pretty Big Thing. Most people are at least vaguely aware of this phenomenon. But if you need to keep yourself constantly aware of the detritus that accumulates around the edges of your focus – which, I mean, by the way, seems unnecessary because this friction inherently makes itself known to you anyway - why not just leave yourself a note or a warning on your bedside table, or in the car or wherever? Why name your precious Blog after it?”
“Why celebrate the shit in life?”
I have two responses to this. First: wow, you’re as long-winded as I am.
Second: well, at first I thought the title wasn’t celebrating so much as acknowledging. Like, “I know the true name of the devil and so he has no power over me” and all that. But that’s not entirely true, is it? To name something is to give it an identity, and to acknowledge an identity is to give it some small amount of power over you.
I guess I really am celebrating the Daily Friction in our lives, but only as we might retroactively celebrate the fever that kept us home on the day of the o-chem pop quiz. I’m not about to buy friction a fucking cake or anything. What should be celebrated is not the friction itself, but the opportunity that it gives us to evaluate our surroundings.
Imagine a world where everyone and everything is permanently coated in a Super-Lard that removes any and all friction from physical activity. Smell aside, this world would seem pretty cool to inhabit at first: you could basically rollerskate everywhere on your feet, condoms would be way cheaper, and the word “chafe” would cease to exist. But remember a moment ago, I said cool “at first.” Once the shock of no-more-shocks wore off, we’d get painfully used to a world without pain pretty quickly. We’d feel little – if anything – from a swim in the pool, running barefoot through grass, or eating a crunchy oatmeal cookie. Even sex would get boring. We’d become physically numb.
Here in the real world, though, we can use these little bits of friction to appreciate texture, determine value differences, cause or receive surprise; the list goes on and on. Friction creates feeling. Nothing makes us feel alive more than a sensation that shakes us out of complacency, whether it’s love or pain, pride or betrayal.
Humans understand this on a subconscious level, too. Friction has become a societal norm of ours to the point where some people will actually manufacture it to either fit in with others or entertain themselves. Think of the people you know who have never really had a tough life, and what “struggles” they actually deal with every day. The successful VP who hasn’t been promoted in months. The gorgeous actress who just can’t seem to make the career jump from supporting role to leading lady. The trust fund hipster who’s incensed that his cappuccino doesn’t have enough foam. Ask any of them how their lives are going, and they will explain these horrors to you in immaculate detail. You are allowed to leave at any point during the ensuing conversation.
Friction keeps us grounded. Without it, well, I can’t say that we would all become intolerable assholes – because “asshole” is a subjective term based on social norms, and if everyone walked around complaining about losing a sequin off of their Ed Hardy jackets, that would only result in a worldwide commiseration followed by a return to the store for newer, shinier jackets for all – BUT, without friction, our human need to infuse our lives with Drama and Importance would turn molehills into entire Appalachian Ranges of loathing, mid-life heart attacks and global wars based on faulty evidence.
Oh, wait.
Anyway, I guess my point is that The Daily Friction needs to be not just acknowledged, but understood. We need to appreciate that there are benefits as well as downsides. It’s an ongoing process/goal/dilemma that will not always be easy for everyone, and especially not for me. But I think that doing so is vital to life and to health. Because, at the end of the day, Friction is not going anywhere and we might as well get used to it, or else.
I mean…I almost want to say that we should be like a smiling Sisyphus, happy in our daily uphill boulder-rolling because it gives us a goal, builds our muscles and keeps us out of a stuffy office environment. Is that fair? Or too much of a pinko commie thing to say? If we can change our definition of what makes us happy, shouldn’t we? Isn’t happiness the simple goal that all of us are forever trying to achieve, and ultimately more important than any political or social dictates?
I don’t know. Maybe that’s a discussion for another time.
