The Crown

Oh man, so many topics to write about. There’s the insanity that took place in the Capital. There’s my intense reactivity to someone in my neighborhood, who considers himself a guru, telling me that Buddhism is idolatry (writing #nojudgement doesn’t not make it a judgement. Also, you’re the furthest thing from Tony Robbins). There’s the comment an ultra orthodox rabbi made, about how the covid vaccine should be avoided because it can turn someone gay. Seriously?? I mean, given the frightening increase in worldwide anti Semitic behavior, do we really need an ignorant, harmful comment like that being aired right now?! Obviously a statement like that is ridiculous, but even if one truly thinks that, perhaps have the clarity of mind to keep such poison to yourself so as to maybe, I don’t know, avoid more synagogues being burned and vandalized. Such a comment is actually what’s called a “chilul Hashem”, a denigration to Hashem, since it’s not what Judaism stands for, which I believe is respect and kindness towards all. Hateful ideas that put down people for their race and sexuality are not what Judaism teaches. There are definitely fanatic fringe groups in every religion who take it upon themselves to distort the ancient teachings, thereby creating terrible divisions. Judaism and religion are actually quite separate, and the Hashem that I believe in loves all His people equally. A comment like this is not only hurtful and cruel to the gay community, but will undoubtedly cause more hatred to be thrown at Jews, so not only was it mean but it was also really selfish and stupid. Think what you want, but please consider the rest of us who are trying to exist peacefully and safely in the world. This was literally the last thing we need right now, or what the world needs.

Which brings me to The Crown, my current Netflix obsession. I did not think I’d like this show, I’d assumed it would bore me. I honestly love it; the history, the human complications in the royal family, the psychological effects being in such positions has on people. This series is so well done, and the acting is phenomenal. Claire Foy especially has given unbelievably heartbreaking humanity to the role of the young queen. She had no idea what hit her. There is so much pain displayed on the face of each family member, and I’m finding the tragedy of it all very raw. We are all just humans innocently born into our individual circumstances, to families and situations we have no control over. Roles are handed to us almost immediately, and we don’t know any different. The royals are people buried underneath these impossibly inhuman roles and expectations, and it’s clear how each and every one of them breaks as a result of that. It creates this very tragic domino effect of one family member unintentionally traumatizing the next, as a result of being completely unseen, unheard, and unknown themselves. There is zero room for thought, emotion, individuality, or opinion. Only duty. It’s a system they did not devise yet must adhere to, and it’s a system that swallows up people to a very sad degree. The concept of roles and stories is present in all our lives. We don’t have to be royals to have been assigned, or to assign, roles to others. Most of us do this all the time, subconsciously. It’s a huge epidemic that creates tremendous sadness, confusion, resentment, and trauma in families, and all types of relationships. When we decide who others need to be in order to fit into our lens of reality, it causes trauma to our loved ones. This reveals itself as innocently in us describing our children. “She’s my student”, “he’s my creative one”. As parents we think we are helping our kids define themselves, and though we don’t admit it, grasp for a means of control over the various players in our own stories by assigning them characteristics. Whenever we decide who someone else is, and how they fit into life, it’s death. And we do this even to those we love the most. This is why therapists will never go hungry; this kind of family system births an endless pain. When we choose the identity for others, we rob them of the freedom to choose for themselves. Kids, hoping to please or piss off their parents, will either dutifully play into their role or do the opposite. Both paths lead to resentment. It’s so depressing to be so unknown, and to feel like the people around you have so little faith in you, to the point where they have to decide who you need to be. It’s amazing, both the archetypal favorite child and the one labeled the problem both hate their roles. Once we are locked into any kind of narrative, it’s a huge amount of pressure to keep up the act. Most people live their whole lives this way, assigning and accepting roles, continuing a painful cycle for generations. I once heard a therapist give a talk. She was telling a story about how a mother lovingly told her daughter that giving birth to her was the best day of her life. A compliment, right? The daughter responded with, “thanks a lot for pinning the best day of your life on me!” There is such pressure in being responsible for the best days of another’s life. In my recent dating experience, almost every single guy I have met has articulated that they felt emotionally responsible for their mothers, which led to each of their marriage choices to their ex wives. Some recreated the mother son dynamic by marrying emotionally erratic women, and some went the opposite route by marrying women who seemed very even keeled, which masked oceans of avoidance and dissociative denial. Bottom line, we are all fucked up and most of us are really trying our best. But when our best comes from a very flawed and misunderstood model, we are given very limited tools to work with. And so the cycle continues, as I’m watching with the generations on The Crown. There was one episode in particular about a college age Prince Charles that had me sobbing. Spoiler alerts, btw. Charles, who the world associates with coldness, Diana, and comments about Camilla’s tampons (roles we’ve chosen for him. We don’t know him!!), was shipped to Wales to mend relations. He is shown as having been a quiet, shy, and sensitive boy who was grossly mishandled by his parents. He had a very lonely, sad childhood. His father, cruel and disappointed in Charles’s nature, threatened to leave Elizabeth unless she agreed to send the boy to this miserable school in Scotland. In that particular episode, Elizabeth, as a young mother, wanted to do right by her child and put him in the correct environment that would suit his nature. At that point in her life she was trying. But her husband waved divorce over her head, had been publicly cheating on her, and quite simply, she was afraid. It’s a whole tangle of each player trying to stay alive in the stories written for them. By the time the college episode comes, Elizabeth has become so hardened as a mother. Her cruelty and coldness towards her son was tough to watch. All maternal love had been sniffed out. He expresses his need for individuality, in having an opinion. He pleads. She clearly tells him “no one wants to hear it”. It was devastating watching this child beg his mother to see him, and watching as she turns her back. Charles did his task by mending relations with Wales, and did so by showing the Welsh respect and sensitivity. This was hugely criticized by the queen, because he broke protocol. He stepped out of his role, even though he accomplished what was needed. Watching how lonely and discarded he was, it was heartbreaking. And so the cycle keeps on, for all of us, as our narratives become more important than the people drowning in them.

Look at all the narratives of the world; sexual, social, political, social, racial, spiritual. They are so destructive. It’s like this roiling cauldron of preconceived notions. None of us chose to participate in that, yet somehow here we all are. All of us. It’s such important work to be acutely mindful of how we hurt both ourselves and others in role taking and giving. Why do humans feel they need them so much?

How have you been hurt by a role or narrative placed on you? How can you understand the history of why you were given said role? Diving into this gives us a better understanding of how we inflict the same thing onto others. Loving well is a skill. It takes practice. One of the most worthwhile things we can practice is to be honest with all of the narratives we also give, so that we can make loving more free and flexible.
Love isn’t a fixed idea.
What has us so afraid of people coloring outside our lines?