When I am bored or finishing up my time on the exercise bike, I spend a few minutes watching Youtube. One of the story lines these days shows a guy walking on a webbing strap stretched between two anchor points several feet above the ground. Since this is Youtube, the likelihood when the video starts is that things will go wrong. Inevitably, the walker loses his balance and falls with one foot on either side of the strap, which snaps back into place now that the weight is off it. The painful results have convinced me that this is something I never want to try.
However, I realize that I have been struggling with an equally difficult balancing act for most of my life. For as long as I can remember, I have been struggling with the balance between individual freedom and community responsibility. I belong to a denomination (Baptist) which developed out of a desire for a greater role of personal freedom before God in organized faith–and have remained in that denominational family because of that foundational principle.
Yet at the same time, I have struggled with freedom that tramples on others, which often happens when people begin to think that their personal freedom (or needs or desires or wants or wishes) are absolute and take priority over everything else, including the freedom of others. Having been on the receiving end of that sort of treatment a few times, I may be a bit more sensitive to it than some.
At the risk of over-simplifying the problem, let me try an illustration. I am colour blind–the red-green version of this problem. (I know I should probably be saying “colour-deficient” but I have been using colour blind for so long that I am going to exercise my freedom to use the term I am familiar with.) I struggle with anything beyond a very clear green and very clear red–once people start mixing colours, I am lost. And so I live with and around that. I only wear colours that I can easily identify. I ask for directions using civic addresses not house colours. I paint walls with whatever paint someone else picks out and will never notice if the tint is slightly off. I use words like “light” or “dark” rather than colour names.
I choose to live in as colour-neutral a world as possible–not a world where colour doesn’t exist but where it has as little an effect on my life as possible. That is my choice and in some ways, my need. And when it comes to my shirts and my directions and my painting, it works well for me. I avoid looking like a clown wearing mismatched clothing, I generally find the right location and I get the walls painted. I have the freedom to choose my own course as a colour-blind individual in a coloured world.
But the coloured world keeps getting in my way. I subscribe to a science magazine which has all sorts of great articles–some of which come with informative graphics like pie charts and graphs and other neat ways of presenting blocks of interesting information. Most of them use colours to present the information, a simple and easy way of portraying information clearly–except for me, it becomes a meaningless blob of frustration because I normally can’t tell the differences in the colours.
Obviously, the whole publishing industry needs to change because of me–well, because of me and all the other colour challenged people in the world who get equally frustrated with those graphics. They will have to present the information in other ways so I can understand it–shading and cross-hatching of various kinds would work. And, while we are at it, maybe we need to change the fashion world so that colours are banned as well. And maybe we should get legislation passed that limits the number of crayons in a package and makes sure that each is clearly labeled–and colouring books are marked with which crayon is appropriate for each space. We could also require cars to be white or black, although natural metal colour might also work.
I think I just fell off the webbing strap.
May the peace of God be with you.