What on Earth Are We Doing Here?

Sep 3, 2011 | Odds & Ends

As many of you already know, this is my final free book review. It is also the only non-fiction title I have reviewed. My personal bias factors heavily in the following assessment. Keep that in mind.

What on Earth Are We Doing Here? Exploring the Case for Human Suffering. Elaine A. Piha. 2011. Balboa Press.

As the title suggests, What on Earth Are We Doing Here? Exploring the Case for Human Suffering is a book that explores age-old questions about human purpose and the role of suffering in our lives. Written by a certified life coach and holistic healing counselor, it started off on very shaky ground before I even turned to page one. Terms like “life coach” and “holistic healing counselor” make me roll my eyes, truth be told.

In the first chapter Piha writes, “The moment you realize that no one is going to rescue  you is the moment you become empowered to rescue yourself.” Trite as it may be, I do agree with this sentiment. However, that’s about all I agree with in the book’s 100 pages.

Right away, the author speaks of near-death experiences and past life regressions as if they are concepts that need no substantiation. She evokes the names of Sylvia Browne, Edgar Cayce and Dr. Raymond Moody as if they are universally accepted as honest-to-god experts. (I assure you that is not the case.)

As a work of non-fiction that purports to have the actual answers to questions like, Why do we suffer? and What is our purpose? I can’t help but be slightly irritated by the lack of reference to authoritative works and substantive information.

For example, the author claims, “Interestingly, there were references to reincarnation in both the Old and New Testaments of the Holy Bible but they were taken out for heresy, despite being accepted by early church leaders.” It might be true; I’m not an expert. But if you’re going to write shit like that, you need to back it up. Give me your source. Let me investigate.

Readers can’t investigate what the author represents as fact at all with What on Earth Are We Doing Here? Exploring the Case for Human Suffering, because the author doesn’t use footnotes—she doesn’t even give a respectable bibliography. The closest she comes is a section titled “Just a Few of the Books that Have Illuminated My Path” which lists such works as Life After Death: The Burden of Proof by Deepak Chopra and The Power of Now: A Guide to Spiritual Enlightenment by Eckhart Tolle. Frankly, those names just elicit more eye rolling.

I could easily spend the next several days harping on all that I disagree with in Piha’s book, but I don’t really think that’s necessary. I do respect her position that individuals should explore these questions on their own. It’s good to read, think, and question. And despite my misgivings about What on Earth Are We Doing Here, I do know that there are people out there that will find this book a source of comfort and inspiration.

To each his own, I guess.

Early Lessons in Writing

Sep 1, 2011 | Freelance Writing, Odds & Ends

Emily circa 1988

Dear Diary,

I am eight, and already I am a prolific writer. Just today, I wrote “Ryan is a fucker” in cerulean blue on a piece of paper. My teacher just raves about my penmanship. I’m bored with writing though, so I’m going to stuff my crayons and papers back in the art drawer in the kitchen.

Love,
Big Em

***

“Ryan! Emily! It’s time for dinner.”

“Yes! I’m starving. What are we having, Mom?”

“Pot roast. Here, put these on the table.”

“Pot roast? Aww, man.” I set the table.

We sat down to dinner, each in our respective chairs. I drank my milk and willed the mushy carrots to go away. In the background, Peter Jennings talked about Hurricane Gilbert. I pushed my carrots around until they got cold. Then, of course, they were even more disgusting.

“Can we get a dog?” I asked.

“No.”

Reluctantly, I finished dinner. Then I made a move to leave the table, grabbing my plate, glass, and silverware. Mom motioned for me to sit back down. “Your Dad and I need to talk to you.”

I knew it was bad before it got bad. Mom looked angry, and Dad looked disappointed. But then Mom pulled out my writing and set it on the dining room table in front of me. I smiled. It was awesome. My Rs were absolutely breathtaking. I waited for the praise.

“Emily, we are so disappointed in you. I don’t know how you can write that about your brother. How do you think Ryan would feel about this? He would probably be very sad and hurt. The Bible teaches us we should be nice and care about other people.”

The burden of my parents’ guilt became heavier and heavier. I sunk into my chair, and hung my head in shame. I stared at the scar on my right knee while the lesson continued. My chin started to quiver.

“Are you sorry?” It wasn’t so much a question as an invitation to beg for forgiveness.

“Yes, I’m sorry,” I sniffed. “I promise I won’t do it again.”

***

Dear Diary,

I am never writing anything again.

Love,
Big Em

P.S. What does fucker mean?

 

Mama’s Losin’ It This entry is part of Mama Kat’s Pretty Much World Famous Writer’s Workshop. It is a response to the prompt, “Write a post about a childhood memory as if you’re in that moment again…from the perspective of yourself as that child.”

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