You may wonder what I mean by the idea of culture itself becoming an anachronism. I don't have a clear definition of culture, but I can provide some examples. We no longer have to draw or paint because we have photography. We no longer have to read music and play the piano or sing together because we have recorded music. We no longer have to wear real clothing because we have polyester (oh, wait. We tried that in the 70s and we learned we didn't like it. Let's not make that mistake again.) We no longer have to paint our houses because we have tacky-looking vinyl substitute siding that can be spotted a mile away to save us the hassle. We no longer have to walk on our sidewalks from one place of business to another because we would rather drive anyway, damn the consequences.
A bit discursive, but I think you get my point. When something becomes a luxury and no longer a necessity, does its virtual substitute meet the neet it once met? Or is a new need created when we realize something intangible is missing? It is something I cannot define, but I know it when I see it. The interior designer who came to my sister's new house recently was drawn instantly to the hand-crafted statuettes and bookends I purchased for her from the fair trade store (where I do nearly all of my Christmas shopping). What was different about them? Whatever it was, she could tell right away. I mean, you can buy mass-produced knicknkack thingys at Mal-wart that look just like them and were manufactured in Chinese sweatshops, but why am I not drawn to them in the same way? How come we can so quickly tell the difference? Why should it matter?
It has to do with what I call a total experience. A total experience involves all of the senses and all of the dimensions of existence, not just one. A total experience meets more than basic needs, but self-actualization needs as well. A total experience invites imagination, sparks ideas, brings back memories, calls us to dream of possibilities. A total experience calls for celebration, makes us want to whistle or sing or paint a picture or write a poem or a play or a story. A total experience is what I have when I take a walk through a forest or a historic neighborhood and used to have almost everywhere else but no longer can. A total experience reminds us of the ends, not just the means. The means call for us to be practical. The means are necessary. The ends may not be imminently practical, but they may be every bit as called for. Let's not lose sight of them and get lost in the shuffle of struggling in the muck and the mire of the means.
Everything we do we do for an experience. We express negatively when we our expectations are thwarted and have to learn to live without expecting anything. Ironically, happiness seems to find the people who aren't trying to find it. We don't always know how to define the experiences we seek, but we know very well that there can be no substitutes.
Hugging is one of the ultimate total experiences. It is fleeting, like all experiences. It has no meaning beyond itself. It involves many senses and dimensions of our being. It is many experiences at once. Above all, it is shared experience. And it requires our total presence and participation. It allows no substitutes. The best way to live, I am told, is to participate in your experience and experience your participation.
So I honor my experiences, even (or especially) when they don't make sense. I forget that I "should" just "get used to" the growing ticky-tackiness of the scenery around me and recognize it when something valuable seems to be disappearing even if words to describe it escape me. Someone recently told me that, in his opinion, vinyl siding is "soulless". Well, I guess "soul" is as good a word as any.
One thing I do know, however, is that the statuettes and figurines that were handcrafted in so-called "developing" countries that I purchase for the members of my family are the things that will get passed down to the next generations, not the computer tables and TV sets and other ephemeral and purely "practical" paraphernalia we now keep around the house. They are not "useful" or "practical". But they live and breathe with us. They have soul. We can look upon them and have a total experience. And that is an end in itself.
