Why Josh Can't Be Left Alone

HEY! Look at me! I'm right here!

The need to be seen is not new. America is obsessed with celebrity, 15 minutes of fame, green mohawks, and pretty much anything that attracts attention. From an existentialist point of view, this is obvious. In trying to understand our lives within the context of billions of humans that live and die, we feel a need to leave our mark. We aren't content to just pass through this world as some organic collection of elemental materials, but as some contributing or improving figure. It's no wonder that people donate buildings with their names on them, or even have marble headstones next to their graves. At the end of our lives, there is a fear that if we aren't remembered, it is as if we were never here. If you don't believe in an afterlife, then like the proverbial tree being chopped down in a forest with nobody to hear, our lives, after years of struggle, are is if they never were.

Of course, Judaism believes in an afterlife. And accordingly, the goals it lays out for each person's life does not involve making themselves known. Every person is given a highly personal mission, and serves that purpose irregardless of whether it is remembered beyond their lifetime. With this mentality, the concept of Tznius, modesty, makes great sense. Not just in the skirt-wearing, hair-covering use that most people associate with Jewish modesty. But the actual modesty required of every Jewish man and woman, as we humbly live our lives in the shadow of an immortal deity.

That all being said, I've found the "Look-at-Me" desire hard to shake. I used to be a very quiet guy. But at some point, I became the clown. If I weren't wearing black and white, I'd be wearing bright orange and blue. I'll get up at a party and start doing karaoke to a song I don't know, with no music playing. Sure I'm a middle child, probably trying to be noticed between all my otherwise better advantaged siblings. But it's much more than that. My behavior extends well beyond the family realm. And I see it as a negative trait, rooted more in the nihilism of America than the universalism of Judaism.

My antics have followed me to Blogville. I publish every rambling that comes to mind, desperately trying to connect to readers. I compulsively check for new comments and total hits way too often. I am a blog whore, visiting and commenting on other's blogs hoping more to generate additional visitors to my site than to contribute anything useful. Receiving personal responses to my comments is gratifying; whether they vilify my abhorrent logic or even possibly agree is irrelevant. But to look online, and to see nobody has responded, nobody has commented, nobody has read. Dread.

The ultimate lack of Tznius is the manipulation of the Yetzer Hora to accomplish this self-serving function. Whether physically flaunting one's assets in the classical sense, or simply airing one's sexual frustrations online, lewdness can be an easy replacement of this empty sense of self-worth. As many bloggers have commented, a sexual themed post, even when not pornographic, will earn at least double the comments. Fortunately, I don't think I've reached this level. Yet.

I think friendship is a good example of both a healthy and unhealthy life from a Tznius standpoint. The non-Tznius person may be known by everyone. With his antics, he's hard to miss. But they aren't friendships, they are tons of acquaintances. But how many of these people will still be there when the antics stop? And when one of those people need more than a laugh, where will you be?

But a Tznius person isn't just a friend because he craves attention. His relationships are strong, a two way bond, built on learning and caring.

This analogy carries online too. There are those bloggers that you bond with, and there are those whose paths you just cross regularly. Hopefully, my online relationships won't be about me seeking attention, but will grow into a source of learning, where I know I will have an earnest ear, but can equally provide an insightful opinion.

OK, deep breath. Now I must come down from the mountain, and see if I've learned anything today.