For goodness' sake

He has said, “You’re a good person,” meaning me, more times than I can recall.

A couple of weeks ago, while walking the puppy and feeling impatient, violent, angry, and any number of other unpleasant emotions, I said out loud to myself, and to Vlad, “I’m not a good person.” The dog didn’t much care what I said one way or the other, as long as it didn’t mean anything bad was going to happen to him. But I started ruminating.

Was I berating myself? Why did I feel impelled to come out with that statement three-quarters of a mile into our walk? And I wondered, “What is a good person? Is anyone I know truly good?”

I think goodness, pure, at-heart goodness, is something that comes naturally. It’s unstudied. It’s not a reaction to some learned moral imperative. It’s not what a person does to avoid unpleasant reactions from others. Pure goodness is something that flows easily from within.

And I don’t think it’s common among humans. It’s by far the exception and not the rule. It seems counter-intuitive, from a survival standpoint. If you give your share of the food away out of the goodness of your heart, how will you survive? Most of us want that food. We realize being nice to other people increases our chances of getting the food, but our primary instinct is to bash other people on the head in order to get it. That assumption is not comfortable. My initial reaction was to deny that was how I was. But, honestly, it’s true. At least for me, it is. Much of the structure we call society is in place so we can get our share of the food while not cracking the heads of others. Morals and ethics have, at their root, a goodness I believe we have inside—but it is deep under the other instincts at whose whims we act out, subversively, passive-aggressively — and, of course, just aggressively. The small, sweet voice of goodness is more often than not drowned out by the frightened caterwauls of “Do I have what I want?” and “Is that person going to keep me from getting it?”

So what about the people whose instincts seem to incline them, naturally, toward selflessness? Why was that behavior not bred out of humanity long ago? Without the drive for acquisition/food as the chief motivator, how does a person survive?

I think also of the spiritual centers of communities who are fed and cared for by the ones who adulate them. They sometimes are good. Perhaps it’s the goodness within those few people that makes their communities revere them as spiritual superiors. Per haps it’s why that tendency survives, in very few people. I may have known one, perhaps two, whose goodness outweighed their drive to acquire and outperform others. One was looked upon as eccentric and not quite within the realm of sanity. The other was one of those people who could operate in the world in which most of us operate. However, concerns I would consider practical, like making sure to eat somewhat regularly and having a place to live, didn’t really top her list of priorities. We may have considered her lucky to have friends who would see that she was fed and cared for, but I think she was just happy to have friends.

I think of people who sacrifice themselves, figuratively or literally, and don’t view what they do as sacrifice. It’s just what they do. That is goodness. Those of us who make sacrifices as a matter of choice practice goodness, but it doesn’t seem to me as though that is intrinsic goodness.

There is another way to look at the issue. In my experience as an opera student and a somewhat professional opera singer, I may have met one person who was a “natural singer.” All the rest of us had to learn the manner of singing that would allow us to project over a 100-piece orchestra for hours and still be able to sing beautifully the next day.

Similarly, there are few people who naturally run very fast. I never hope to be a true race contender, but I strive to do better than the last race. Runners, like me or like most professional racers, can train to increase speed, but the natural propensity for tremendous speed is a rare attribute.

I’m not saying the people who are natural singers, or natural good people, or natural fast runners, are superior to the rest of us. And there is something noble about striving to better one’s self. Reaching beyond that which comes comfortably to us is part of what makes us human. Just like those not-so-noble impulses to bash our neighbors on the head and take their tasty treats for ourselves.

And you can say I try to do good things. Sometimes I even succeed. Just don’t call me a good person. Or I might just disappoint you… or take your ice cream while you’re not looking.