Paradise lost

"The only paradise is paradise lost." --Marcel Proust

Echoed by the ever-so-wise Janet Jackson, "On and on you seem to go, and you don't know what you've got till it's gone." Unfortunately, if we buy into this theory without reserve, we're all screwed because it suggests that there is no hope of ever being truly happy or fulfilled, at least not to the blissful degree of paradise.

I like to think that paradise exists prior to the moment when its loss is recognized. I want to believe that I could be perfectly happy, perfectly fulfilled at any given moment in time, albeit on a small and perhaps ephemeral scale. So I suppose it's simply a question of definition. Can paradise be confined to a moment in time?

According to Proust, the nature of paradise is one that is inherently temporary. In that sense, I agree with the quote. I believe in small paradises. Our lives are in constant flux and there is never a moment where not a single aspect of our lives could not be better. But on a smaller scale, if we take our love lives, for instance, I believe we are able to experience perfect happiness and fulfillment for short periods of time. But unlike Proust, I think it is possible to recognize paradise at the time of its experience, however fleeting. I refuse to believe that paradise can only exist in hindsight... that would be too depressing for me to bear! Why go on living if the only moments of true happiness exist perpetually in the past?

Some people are, in my opinion, more inclined to agree with Proust. Until they have been stripped of that which they did not realize was paradise, they were looking for paradise elsewhere. I'm gonna go out on a limb here and suggest that men are more inclined to fall into this category than are women in relationships. I don't really feel like I have any real justification for that statement... but I think men are more inclined to experience the regret of paradise lost because they simply didn't recognize how good they actually had it at the time.

When women are dumped by men we care about and we are not in the wrong (meaning we did not lie, cheat, or act crazy otherwise), our feelings run a certain course. First, surprise. Second, sadness/ hurt. Third, anger/ ill-will. Finally, apathy/ indifference. The second stage tends to last the longest and can overlap to some degree with the third stage. But I'd like to focus on the transitions from sadness to anger to indifference. After the initial pain of heartbreak, after exploring every possible what-could-I-have-done-differently, it may be concluded that he is simply an asshole (may is the operative word here, because not all breakups have to be anyone's fault). Especially if it's because he met another girl. The hurt subsides a bit as the anger sets in because you're spending less time thinking about how horrid you feel and more time thinking about what a whore the other girl is (and other such unfounded, vile thoughts) and how much you wish they would both disappear from the face of the earth. You think of all of the nice things you did for him and realize how unappreciative he was and hope that with every new girl he meets, he looks back at you and comes to see the error of his ways. That in you, he sees his paradise lost. And then, at some point, you start to hate yourself for even wasting so much of your time thinking about him or any of your precious tears crying over him, and you begin to just not care. Time passes, and you care less and less. The memory is preserved and sometimes it is hard to remember all the bad things, but you've finally healed.

Paradise may be temporary, but that doesn't mean we should stop seeking it. The moment in which it is had is a glorious one, especially if you are fortunate enough to recognize it before it has passed. But even after its passing, the remembrance of paradise can be heartwarming. We needn't be concerned about the impending loss of paradise because more often than not, it's a given. The true joy is in savoring each morsel of paradise before it turns to shit.