In Heaven, Everything is Fine

October 13, 2022

For a long time, I thought that this world was Hell. I thought that we were all living in Hell together. I saw in everyone and everything the deep depression that I felt: all the misery and spite and regret that defined my life. I thought that happiness was impossible, and that all joy was eventually subsumed by the grinding toil of Life in Hell. Whenever anyone I considered lucky or fortunate revealed that they too felt a certain sadness at times, I reveled in the recognition: ‘Aha!’ I would think, ‘Deep down, you too are in Hell!’

There’s no way to convince someone living in Hell that they can escape. Whether it is a Hell of Hatred or a Hell of Sorrow, the most devastating part of any Hell is the solitude. That feeling that you are alone in wherever it is you are, that there is some invisible barrier between you and all others. This is what makes escape feel so impossible. Eventually, it can feel like one’s personal Hell is the basis of the entire universe, that everything that was ever created was created specifically for your torment.

There's something tactile and visceral about the idea of Hell. There's something weirdly appealing about the idea that demons are infesting our world or our brains. That demonic (what a word!) forces are at work, crushing our happiness and drinking our sorrows. Even if you don't believe it, you can't help but think it. You can't help but see a truly despicable being and reach for that infernal signifier: ‘Demon! Devil! You are SATAN and you rule in HELL!’ When I worked at the fruit store, I would often think this of certain customers as they walked away from the register.

Earlier, at my first job, I had developed a habit of sticking my tongue out at unruly customers as they walked away. This childlike gesture instantly eradicated all my anger, rendering the entire exchange silly and meaningless. However, as the years went by, and my familiarity with the world made such people appear less as silly aberrations, and more as grave symptoms of a poison that infects our species, this type of response no longer seemed adequate. Instead, adult that I was, I began to curse them for their demonic ways, and pray for their immediate destruction.

This is perhaps not a healthy way of dealing with the world. You may understand now, if you didn't already, why I had to leave that job.

Such people, of course, are not demons. They are not children of Satan, or aspects of Satan himself given human form. Instead, you could argue that such people are themselves living in Hell. By acting in their selfish and impudent ways, they make the world around them into Hell by pushing away all around them that is good. They isolate themselves with their anti-social behaviour, and create a bubble of solitary punishment. 'Better to rule in Hell than serve in Heav'n,' they declare, ruling nowhere, constantly irritated and irate about the minor inconveniences the world throws their way.

It's a Hell with which we are all partially familiar. On occasion, we all construct for ourselves a little Hell. We say something snippy or do something selfish, and then, instead of apologizing like we know we should, we double down. Our guilt and shame pushes us away from those around us; we pile on bad deeds or snide remarks, surrounding ourselves with a wall of idiotic self-serving trash. It's as if sin has its own momentum; you roll down the hill, you sink in the quicksand, you are sucked up by the vaccuum cleaner, toward further anger and further estrangement. Eventually, you must fight this momentum; you must brace every muscle in your body, and run against the current. And then, pop! there you are, back in the world.

It is so easy to lose that battle, and turn your life into a Hell! It is perhaps easier than anything else. And yet, for whatever reason, we seem specifically designed for this fight. It is where we see our greatest powers in starkest relief. This fight to remain a person, to remain on Earth, and to continue to partake in the beauty of this strange, strange world.

You can be as rich as you like, and live in Hell. When you live in competition, jealousy, hatred, and fear, you live in Hell. You can attain the best career, the highest salary, the biggest house, and live in Hell. Hell is a life without loving; it is a life of inner torment.

I'm not going to misquote Yoda for you again. You know what I want to say. Just replace "Dark Side" with "Personal Hell."

It is perhaps spiteful for me to think that these people live in a permanent and all-encompassing Hell just because they were rude to me, the cashier at a fruit store. Perhaps I am engaging in that most despicable of religious behaviours: relishing in the torment of my enemies. That being said, I don't want them to be in Hell. I'd rather no one be in Hell, really. I mean, I've gone to Hell myself. I've felt that hatred. One might even say that in those moments when I prayed for my opponent's destruction, I was myself in Hell. It was often the case that the next customer in line, a person with no relation to any of what had just occurred, would receive a portion of my wrath. I would treat them with less patience and grace than they deserved, all because they happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. And if my impatience was especially noticeable, it is possible that they then went on to feel wrath toward me, wrath that carried on into their next interaction, and so on, forming a further link in a long chain of unnecessary and inhuman hatred!!

Alas! The Hell that we form by our bonds!

It takes energy to fight such processes. When we are tired, we lash out. We do not have the ability to temper our bestial responses. When we are worn down by the trials and tribulations of Life on Earth, we find ourselves at our least willing to ease the pain of others.

Kant conceptualizes human freedom as the freedom to be good — the freedom to transcend our mechanistic emotional responses, and act according to a more divine and humane morality. This freedom is innate within us, but it takes effort and will to embrace it.

"It's so easy to laugh; it's so easy to hate. It takes guts to be gentle and kind."

It is infinitely better, not only for the World but for ourselves personally, to forgive when we are wronged. When I could find it within myself not to hate and condemn but to love and forgive, it was immediately obvious that I had made the right choice. The next customer would be met not with residual wrath, but with renewed kindness: a pleasant smile and greeting, an extension of patience, an offer of help. It is funny: more than spite and wrath, it is forgiveness that makes me feel most powerful. The power to turn the other cheek is humanity's greatest superpower. Love is that infinite gift from which the giver and receiver both gain.

When I am, in my best moments, able to extend such forgiveness and experience such Love, I am in Heaven. When I am, in my worst moments, a complete jerk for no reason at all — when I feel that because I'm tired or irritated I no longer have the moral responsibilities I do when I'm in high spirits — I am in Hell. To me, this is the meaning of those two words, and the two realms they denote.

I have, as all of us have, visited both Heaven and Hell. I did not, like Dante, sink to the depths of one in order to ascend to the heights of the other. It's not quite as linear as that. It's a constant battle, a fraught marriage between Heaven and Hell. Perhaps this is what medieval angelologists were getting at when they conceived of the grand cosmic war between angels and demons for our souls.

What I know is that, during my brief visits, I learned something about Heaven. I learned that in Heaven, everything is fine.