Week 7: Imagine ALL the People

Looking back on some of my decisions, it would have been really helpful if I had had Ignatius’s Rules of Discernment to guide me. For all the religious connotations that people associate with the Jesuits, they have some truly great practices regardless of one’s spirituality. The Rules start off with some common sense: don’t make a hasty decision; take some time for tempers to cool; get away from all the stress and just think things through.

But the genius of the Rules, I think, is in Ignatius’s use of imagination. Don’t just try to describe what it would be like, but actually experience it. Put yourself in the position and live through it with all your senses. It makes decision-making not only easier, but far more effective in the long run.

In High School, back when my academic record was questionable at best, I had to face the legitimate matter of whether or not I was going to college after I graduated. Not sure if I really wanted to get a job or explore the world, I decided on a compromise: join the military. In particular, I had this idea that it would be awesome to be a scout sniper in the Marines. You know, those guys who go behind enemy lines, gathering intel and taking out designated targets. How cool would that be, especially to a budding adult?

When I told my best friend (a person whose idea of chess is to set up armies and flick checkers pieces at them, and whose favorite scene from “The Patriot” is the battle where the soldier gets beheaded by a cannonball), he just chuckled. He pointed out my…well, let’s say my lack of musculature. He was convinced that I wouldn’t pass the physical fitness test, let alone get through all of basic training. And as indignant as I felt, I had to admit that he was probably right. What I lack in physical strength, though, I more than make up for in willpower. Or stubbornness. Tomato, tomato, right?

Hmmm, I guess that doesn’t work so well in writing.

I was still convinced that I could do it if I set my mind to it, and after talking with my friends and hearing all their arguments, I felt confident that I could discuss it with my parents. Boy was that a mistake.

My mom was immediately against it. Being the daughter of a Navy engineer, I guess her idea of the military was much less romantic than mine. Surprisingly, my dad supported the idea somewhat, much to the chagrin of my worrisome mother. He thought it would build discipline, teamwork, self-confidence – all those factors that a degree really doesn’t account for. After all, my uncle was in the Marine Corps Reserves, and he saw it as a positive life experience.

I wasn’t sure what to do. I knew it would be difficult, but I still thought I could manage. At the same time, I had to contend with one half of my family disagreeing with the other. With all this swirling around in my head, I unknowingly followed Ignatius’s advice: I found myself sitting on the couch one day, imagining what it would be like.

I saw myself in PT, pushing my body to its limit, dragging myself through mud and barbed wire. I heard the yelling, the breaking of our spirits so that we could be rebuilt from the bottom up. I felt the 100+ degree weather of the barren Iraqi desert. I experienced the trauma of pulling a trigger and seeing a fellow human being go limp on the other end. I even considered what it would be like if I were ever caught – execution if I was lucky, torture if I wasn’t.

Then I imagined coming home, unable to properly communicate to my friends and family what it was like. Maybe an initial homecoming celebration, but eventually it would all be lost among the countless number of battles fought in war. Is that what I wanted?

Obviously, you know what I chose. In hindsight? I’m pretty happy with my decision, though I can’t help but admire the men and women who took the path I couldn’t. I don’t know, maybe it was different for them – different available options, different pros and cons, different imagery. I’m sure God (or whatever you choose as your higher power) doesn’t show us all the same things, but maybe He shows us exactly what we need to see.