Context is For Queens

Humans are stubborn, willful little creatures. We’re relentlessly determined to understand the nature of, well, everything. But as much as we act like cosmic detectives, we don’t have the skill, the right tools, or even a faint idea of what the mystery is we’re trying to solve. Sure, we can keep pretending we can wrap our heads around the endless complexities of existence, but we’re going to end up like a hapless puppy chasing its own tail.

In recent years, I’ve realized that I’m absolutely obsessed with context. But it’s not in the charming way someone might be obsessed with a hobby like cross-stitch or collecting fridge magnets from national parks. Unfortunately, it’s much more insidious—an all-consuming need to analyze the deeper meaning of things.

How did this obsession come to be? Well, it’s probably because most people I know are too busy taking things at face value like they’re the opening bids at an auction. Now, here I am, frantically waving my hand in the air, screaming, “But wait! There’s more!” Of course, no one wants to listen.

Honestly, many people don’t actually want to know what’s lurking behind the curtain. They prefer the pretty packaging. Context, for most people, is an optional extra, like guac at Chipotle. Myself, I’d rather have my own personal avocado tree so I can make my own at home without taking a chance that my burrito will have guac that tastes like fridge.

Personally, I think that many people disregard the nuances of context because they simply don’t care. But in many cases, it seems they’re more worried that if they learn the truth about something they enjoy, their feelings will be hurt, and they’ll lose something valuable from their lives. People would rather be lied to and just accept it to float on by.

I’ve certainly let my own apathy and other annoying little feelings get in the way of learning how and why things really work as they do. Our feelings might be what make us human, but much of the time, they’re just moody little gremlins that take over the show at the worst possible times. Too often, we treat our emotions like they’re sacred truths demanding to be taken seriously.

Unfortunately, feelings are terrible storytellers, at least when it comes to being truthful. They’re that one friend who insists they “tell it like it is” but somehow never quite gets it right. Sure, emotions can drastically alter the color and shape of experience, but they’re more like an Instagram filter of reality: distorted and blurry.

I get swept up by my feelings all the time, too. The number of emotional crises I’ve had over what amounts to nothing more than a stray comment or the wrong tone of voice could fill a trilogy of poorly made indie films. Still, I’ve made a conscious choice now in my thirties to spend more time becoming an expert in discerning the truth beneath the emotional muck. Even if I still let my emotions win more than they should, at least I’m more aware of it every time it happens. That’s half the battle.

So, I continue my quest to uncover the context of everything—whether anyone else cares or not. After all, emotional storytelling may sell widgets and rebooted franchises, but context is for queens.

~ Amelia Desertsong