I Could Care Less

     Where are you on your spectrum of caring? I realize what a silly question that is, because we care about a great many things—things that we actually like and want to care about, as well as priorities that are forced upon us but we'd rather avoid, like school, work, etc. Some people genuinely like school. I don't understand those people, but they're a credit to the human race. For the rest of us, we don't want to care about school, but we have to because it determines so much of our future (so they tell us. See my last post about student loans).
     Anyway, pick something about which you care very little--maybe you don't care for it at all! In fact, that's better. Pick something you don't care about at all. For me, that's generally something like what I want to eat or wear or whatever. I really have no preference most of the time. Like, none. Rock bottom of caring. Another way to say that is, "I could care less," right? Wrong! How does that even make sense? What you mean to say is, "there is no possible way for me to care less about this," but what you're actually expressing is, "I have an indeterminate amount of caring regarding this issue. It is still possible for me to care less." I mean, it could work if what you meant were, "I don't care that much, but I care a little bit." But that's generally not what you mean to say, is it? Is it?
     Grammar Nazis everywhere jump on this colloquial mistake like free pizza on a college campus. It's one of the first things that comes to mind when we think of incorrect things that people say. So I hope that if you use the not-so-correct version of this phrase, you immediately repent and change your ways (I'm only kind of kidding).

     Why do we care? This is open-ended. It could refer to our personal lives, education, health, or anything else. There are also innumerable reasons to feel that something is important or worth our time. I don't think there really is a right answer or a wrong answer. The only unacceptable response is to not care at all.
     That said, why don't we care? I'm not talking about things that are actually inconsequential, like which type of cereal you buy. I mean big things—whom and how often you date, your major, your job (both what it is and whether or not you have one), etc—that we pretend not to care about. Not all of us, not all these things, not all the time, but there are certainly times when we act like we couldn't care less when we really could care less.
     So why do we put on a face? I think it's because we're afraid to feel vulnerable. If what goes up must come down and what goes around comes around, then what we say must be heard, how we react must be seen, and what we feel must be built up or shut down. I understand that. I have a history of putting my feelings on the line and hearing "no." I'm not seeking pity or anything—I'm actually really happy about the way my life is going right now—but it's true. I've tried not to let it eat at me, but it's hard to be rejected. I don't in any way want to diminish that. Someone once told me that the worst thing she had ever gone through was a breakup. I believe that. Emotions are tender; they break; they hurt. There's no way around that.
     But they also glow. They uplift. They fill. They strengthen. They complete. They're worth it. I can't think of a time when I've been proud of myself for pretending not to feel. But looking back with a mature, experienced perspective, I wouldn't take back any time I've let myself be vulnerable.

     God put us on earth to feel. He commands us to love one another (an emotion), to be of good cheer (an emotion), and to mourn with those that mourn (an emotion). I also saw in a movie that He commands us 365 times in the Bible, "Do not fear" or "Be not afraid." It's not that He's telling us not to feel, though. He just wants us to feel the right thing. We can feel sad from time to time. Christ Himself was described as "a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief" (Isaiah 53:3). He knows what you're feeling, no matter what that is.
     The prophet Alma taught concerning the Savior, "And he shall go forth, suffering pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind; and this that the word might be fulfilled which saith he will take upon him the pains and the sicknesses of his people. And he will take upon him death, that he may loose the bands of death which bind his people; and he will take upon him their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may know according to the flesh how to succor his people according to their infirmities" (Alma 7:11-12). To "succor" means to "run to." Christ suffered all things—sins, pains, sorrows, sicknesses—so that He could run to us when we need him. He knows you, and He knows how you feel. It's okay to be sad, but He doesn't want us to dwell in sadness.

     He also doesn't want us to not feel at the expense of experiencing negative emotions. "Men are that they might have joy" (2 Nephi 2:25). If we're choosing not to feel instead of feeling sad, we're not halfway there. We're actually going backwards. God wants us to feel joy, and He wants us to feel sadness so we can appreciate the joy. I bawled my eyes out watching Disney and Pixar's Inside Out because of its central message: it's okay to feel things besides joy. We can feel a mix of emotions that even we don't understand, and that's perfectly fine. But not feeling at all is an emptiness that I hope I never experience again.
     I know that emotion isn't a light switch. But if we let it, it can be a sunrise, gradually enlightening and warming the world around us. Every day consists of a sunrise, a noon, a sunset, and a midnight. Those are all essential pieces of our lives. So my hope for anyone who reads this isn't that every day becomes an eternal sun. I just think it would be nice that if when midnights come, we remembered that the sun's just around the corner.
     I hope that you, whoever you are, are happy. And that's something I could care less about, because I actually care a lot.

Here's a video based on the words of an Apostle, teaching us why we need a load in our lives, good or bad. An emotionless life won't lead us home: