Gravity is Working Against Me: Feminism, Desire, and How God Answers My Questions

As promised, here's my follow up after my feminism class met yesterday...

Turns out this whole desire thing is pretty well explained by good ol' Freud. The big mystery of life--that we discussed yesterday--is where does that tricky desire come from? There's this crazy argument about the nature vs. culture dichotomy, and a lot of people want to explain culture in terms of nature--ie: we function in certain ways, or culture develops in certain ways, because of our innate nature. The problem with trying to define nature, though, is that culture develops differently from place to place. Though nearly all cultures have taboos surrounding food, excretion, and reproduction--boundaries that determine what is considered "clean" and "unclean"--those demarcations are not the same cross culturally. Because said taboos are not the same, Poststructuralists argue, it is impossible to solidify "the person" outside of culture, time, humanity, etc. If you stopped following right about now, don't stress (Poststruct-what??), Freud falls on the other side of the argument, with the Essentialists, who explain culture in terms of innate nature: we are a certain way just because that's how humans are. So the Essentialist idea goes that people have this "lack," an inner void, if you will (sound familiar churchies?), that we are trying to fill. Hence, desire occurs because we are unsatisfied from birth. Freud explains that somewhere in the recesses of our unconscious, we hold to this ahistorical unity of self with "the Mother" (the existence of which, of course, the Poststructuralists question altogether)--that at one time we were a unified self, but at birth we are torn from our "home," which creates the "lack," a hole we spend our whole lives trying to fill. Freud says, I miss my mommy. Church tells me, I miss God.

So in my last post I skirted the issue of desire, asking lots of questions, but making no attempt to answer them for myself. Today, I spent some time with my journal to get to the bottom of things. No, really, what do I desire?

Frankly, I'd be lying if I didn't answer, "God"...because I do desire Him. But I'd be lying if I did answer simply as such...because it really isn't the whole truth. Of course, now my inner Legalist feels guilty because she knows the answer should be God. Period. If I really love Jesus, I wouldn't think of anything else, right? So I shouldn't desire. End of story. Rational Meredith steps in--well if I do desire other things, perhaps it's a problem of a misplaced signifier. In other words, perhaps I desire a man because I'm trying to fill the God-shaped void inside myself. Still digging for the bottom.

It's easiest to tackle the big one first: my desire for a man/boyfriend/husband. The illusive "One." So, really, why do I want a guy in my life? What is the desire that manifests as the signifier, "man"? I made a list...to feel valued, cared for, appreciated...for physical satisfaction, security. Even some more noble (sounding?) reasons--to learn what it's like to love sacrificially like Christ, to experience the depths of intimacy, to literally "make disciples" as I raise my children to know and understand God's truth. Then there's some other, less prominent (or overwhelmingly daunting) things on my list--I desire close friends, a good job, money, possessions--most of which link back to the same whys of seeking a man. And awkwardly enough, they are the very same reasons I seek after Christ: value, love, security...

Surprise! I find myself with another big issue: I've always believed that only in Christ will I truly find the desires of my heart. Allegedly, He will fill me up in ways that no man ever could. Now, experience shows that man will indeed fall short of my needs, expectations, whatever. However, that assumes that I can predict the future based on past events--logic that sometimes works, but can't actually be proven. To explain, it would be silly for me to make this argument: every time I have flipped a coin, it landed heads up; therefore, this next flip will also be heads. But it follows the same logic, only seems more plausible, to suggest that every time I drop my pen it falls to the ground. Therefore, this time it will also fall. Even though the logical progression is the same, what makes the first example sound dumb is that you question my lack of testing--how many times have I actually flipped the coin? Because probability says that, since we know the other side of the coin exists, it may eventually fall tails-up. Conversely, we know of no other alternative to gravity, and it's been tested for however many thousands or billions of years old you believe the earth to be. If we relate this logic to the boy situation, it leans (or maybe is pulled) toward gravity. I've never met a boy who could fulfill me like Christ. I haven't heard of anyone who found a soulmate to 100% truly complete them. Evidence seems to indicate that filling the void with a man isn't actually possible. But who knows? Maybe one day I'll drop my pen, and it will float up. I'm open to the idea...but I wouldn't bank on it. On the other hand, God is like the coin's tail. I can point to moments of closeness that made everything on this earth seem trivial. I know that tails must exist because I've seen it, felt it. And even though it seems like lately I'm flipping more heads than the French guillotines, I press on.