Avoiding my Mea Culpa

I wonder if Lucy Maud Montgomery was right when said that our characters would be formed by the time we are twenty. I concur with Anne by responding, "I don't feel that it's what it should be. It's full of flaws."

Tonight I have finished reading the Fountainhead by Ayn Rand.

I thank God that I have no readers, because if I did, then I would have to delete this blog immediately.

Ayn Rand has shaken me to my core, as I knew that she would. She makes me question the existence of God, of the way that I view myself in respect to the world, and the way that I view myself in respect to myself. I wonder if she felt the anxiety that her characters felt about sharing brilliance. Didn't she realize that by writing her philosophy down on paper, the entire world would be able to see? And think of all those pathetic people who have seen? But I shouldn't be thinking of all of those people. I should be only thinking of myself. I don't want to take her work, eat it, swallow and chew on it, and consequently let it absorb into my soul. I mean, I do. But I don't. I don't want to be a 'second-hander' as she has termed them. All of the people in this world who have no integrity for themselves. They view each action, and each decision in respect to the people around them and what is expected of them. I don't want to second-hand Rand's work. I also don't want to be fed anything. I always feel like Ayn Rand is spoon feeding me the most delicious dessert on earth. I love her for it. But I need to take the spoon and make the decision of what I will do with what she had made for me. I want to process it all properly. I want to understand it all fully. I want to embody many things that she says. But I do not want to worship her.

Now the question is, what do I do with what I know? Do I become the new Howard Roark? I would say no. And certainly not the Dominique Francon. But more than avoiding the typecast-ness of her title characters, the person that I would least like to become is Gail Wynand. The moment that I recovered from the considerable shock of realizing that he was a promising character, I pitied him more than any person that I have ever encountered. The book ends with him upholding his integrity for the first time in his life, but knowing that it was too late. Knowing that he had already sold his soul to the power of his station even after he had destroyed it. It was his Mea Culpa--maximum grievous fault. I cried for him. I cried for him because I never want to become him.

One point in the book that stirred me--apart from the magnanimous speech given by Roark during his trial that compelled me more than any other thing that I have read in my life--was a conversation between Roark and Peter Keating. Keating asked Roark for something, and then said that he would sell his soul for it. Roark responded by saying, "To sell your soul is the easiest thing in the world. That's what everybody does every hour of his life. If I asked you to keep your soul--would you understand why that's much harder?"

I want my soul intact, thriving in my body. And I want to act accordingly.

Integrity. That is the final answer when it comes to how I see the greatest element of Rand's philosophy. Infallible integrity that is not persuaded by clever tongues, is not diminished by attack, is not toppled in strong winds, and is not infected by outward influences.

I deleted my facebook. At least for the time being.

As I read, I discovered that I was using facebook, not as a form of communication, but as a tool to display myself to the world. I was selling my soul one bit at a time, and not even to the highest bidder, but the the simplest person that had eyeballs and a computer. I am tired of selling myself. I am tired of letting myself sell myself. That is why I am glad no one (excepting a very limited group of people who I have shown this blog and who I want to see my thoughts) read this blog!

Integrity. It means that I need to make decisions on how I will choose to live my life from now on. I am not attempting to shape myself to the ideal of a Randian protagonist, that is ridiculous, as well as second-handing. I want to live my life in my own way, according to my own standards. How often do I find myself measuring my life against someone else's? How often to I try to change what I will say, or what I will wear according to who I am meeting. I am sacrificing my integrity each time. I want to learn to be loyal to myself. Whew.

And now you understand why I do not want my character to be shaped by the time I'm twenty. I don't have much time left.