Lessons from Alice in Wonderland
©David S.M.D.
"It's a fork in the road, and the signs are a reference to the Mome Raths, pointing to the pursuits of the world. Of course, the way of the world doesn’t operate around divine logic and is instead chaotic and destructive, and often blindsides any who are foolish enough to follow the wider path, shown here as a wave of water hiding around the corner. The narrow path is difficult to follow and requires intense focus, but keeps one above the water."
---David
Trepidation spewed into my bloodstream like the venom of a king cobra. I was seated on the edge of my bed in front of our family’s grey Toshiba TV, transfixed by what I was told was a Disney movie. However, it felt more like a horror film.
It was Alice in Wonderland. I was seven years old.
That rainy Saturday afternoon, this Disney movie was different. Is this what life is? Have I also slipped through the rabbit hole and landed on planet earth to abide by rules, customs, and language-expressions that don't make sense to me? Where was I before I followed the white rabbit into this odd place? Where is home?
The fear and homesickness cascaded from my chest and expanded throughout my body in torrents. But they deluged at the tea party scene.
White Rabbit barges into the unbirthday festivities, already behind schedule to meet the queen. Little does he know the lunacy he’s just walked into.
Mad Hatter yanks Rabbit’s pocket watch from his paws and declares it’s two days slow. He gouges it out with a fork, and splatters a stick of butter and a pot of hot tea into its insides.
Rabbit lunges toward the table to salvage what’s left of his watch, but the March Hare kicks him out of reach and eggs on the Hatter to do his worst.
“Mustard?”* says Hare.
“Mustard? Don't let’s be silly,” Hatter says as he throws lemon into the watch instead. “Lemon. Yes. That should do it.”
The lump in my throat bore into me like a jagged-edged rock. I took my eyes off the TV screen and stared at my feet. The blue carpet and my red and pink slippers blended together into a vertiginous rainbow swirl. Hot tears spilled down my cheeks.
It was all too familiar. I’d often found myself in such pushy and discombobulating situations. Whenever this happened, I didn’t know why it was acceptable to invade my space or my property, or why “lemon” was better than “mustard.” But I played it cool. That’s how I survived this Wonderland we call our world.
And that’s the way things stayed for a while. That is, until now!
***
I’ve chased after White Rabbit over the years and continued to absorb the language and endure the customs of Wonderland along the journey. But now my legs are tired. I doubt the watch-toting bunny can lead me to my destination, wherever that is. I’ve now drowned out his frenzied “I’m late, I’m late, I’m late.” I’ve decided to turn around and search for a place beyond the mayhem. I’ve begun to trace my footsteps back home.
From my current watchtower, every square inch of our globe is desert submerged in heartbreaking disharmony and folly. Trillions of souls stampede after a carrot dangled on a stick by an unhinged tyrant. As Cheshire Cat says, “All ways here are the queen’s ways.”
But I’ve discovered an oasis. It is a haven of rest where I am understood, and I find meaning. It is a place where I am not mishandled or misguided. In this secret place, my Father confirms this broken world is not my own, and He cradles my tear-streaked face in His hands when I worry about the way things are.
Why do the Wonderlanders ask, “How are you?” if they don’t really care? Why do they judge based on trivialities such as zip code or dress code? Why do they gravitate toward the cheerful and shun the grieving? Why do they say, “Let’s catch up soon,” if they neither plan to nor desire to?
Father calls these sins — we all trespass against another because we too are broken. He helps me reject these habits yet survive the world as it is. He repaves ancient paths for me when Wonderland’s Mome Raths tempt me down wide ones. He scoops me up when I am neck-deep in lies that I am subpar for failing to follow the protocols of Wonderland to a T. When would-be allies invite me to dinner, only to waft up an icy, “No room, no room,” he sets a new table before me.
Perhaps we’re all chasing after White Rabbit, bending our souls to the dysfunctional demands of our world in hopes that we’ll one day arrive at our own lavish tea parties and that life will finally taste sweet. Along the way, we may toss back swigs of our Wonderland’s “drink me’s” to shrink to acceptable sizes of ourselves, just to enter social circles that bind us to perpetual inanities. Surrounded by self-professed gatekeepers, we may self-administer the opiatic “eat me’s” to puff ourselves up to compete, carouse, and collaborate with them, only to get stuck in compromising spaces so painfully tight that when we break down in sobs, we risk drowning in our own tears.
A few of us might make it into the queen’s castle, having walked the walk with military precision. But their hoorays are cut short. They too are sentenced to tread on eggshells — to paint white roses red. One slight slip of the mask and it’s off with their heads. They raise the white flag. One by one, they tuck and roll. Into their foxholes they go, defeated yet relieved. Alas, stillness rears its ugly head. It morphs into lethal loneliness.
But Christ can raise Lazarus!
***
Alice drank and ate and haggled her way through Wonderland. She wrangled with Caterpillar, Cheshire Cat, and Tweedledee and Tweedledum. What missteps have I too made? How many times have I contorted myself to measure up to the madness? Why on earth have I been so determined to master the art of wonderlanding?
Their whispers haunt me like the caws of a crow on a cold Halloween. “Don’t be so black and white,” the Wonderlanders say. “Nothing wrong with being diplomatic, or shrewd, or playing the game to get to the top. Be wise as a serpent and innocent as a dove.”
But Father instructed me to be wise as a serpent. He never told me to live like one.
My soul has already been captured. I’ll continue to walk this less-travelled path, to take refuge in the One who does not confound me but grants me peace, the One who does not bend me out of shape but bids me to come as I am, the One who does not chastise me for refusing to call good bad and bad good but leads me down the paths of righteousness.
The Queen of Hearts will never be the queen of my heart. You won’t find me on the queen’s way since I've found this lighter way. Mr. Caterpillar can yell, “You there! Wait!” till covered in morning dew. Tweedledee and Tweedledum can belt out, “How d’ye do and shake hands.” I’ve drowned them out too. I am no longer the ears for their words, no longer the mind for their thoughts. I’m done. I’m just done. I’m just not doing it anymore.
At the end of her journey, Alice peered through a giant keyhole and saw herself on the other side of the rabbit hole. She was in a sunlit garden. All along, she had been fast asleep under a tree in the real world.
“Alice, please wake up, Alice,” she cried out. And presto! She awakened from the nightmare of Wonderland.
I don’t know where I was before I came in through the rabbit hole. But I know I too have a home. There is a new garden, a new Jerusalem toward which I’m heading. I will live my current earthly life in light of that. The present world is still petrifying, like the venom of a king cobra. But I know this lasts only a night. I'll make the most of these few hours until daybreak.
Teach me, O LORD, to follow your decrees; then I will keep them to the end. Psalm 119:33, NIV.
* All movie quotes in this blog are from Alice in Wonderland, adapted from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll.
Further reading:
"The problem with diplomacy: Neurodiversity, Truth and Masking", by Richard Lewis.
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