We all remember Captain Ahab, a traveler on the open waters, wind-blown and free to set a course anywhere across the rolling sea. Untethered, he was… except in his mind, which was hog-tied to a big white whale.
The captain was obsessed. The whale was his obsession. The sea creature called Moby Dick had carried away a piece of Ahab in an earlier encounter and Ahab was determined to rid the sea of the monster and to exact some personal vengeance in the doing.
“Towards thee I roll, thou all-destroying but unconquering whaler, to the last I grapple with thee; from hell’s heart I stab at thee; for hate’s sake, I spit my last breath at thee,” bemoaned the captain in Herman Melville’s classic novel.
In short, Ahab detested the whale. He didn’t admire it for its strength or honor it for its slippery majesty, let alone respect it as a worthy adversary. He just wanted it destroyed. Obsessed, he was—all whale all the time.
Know anyone like that? There seem to be a lot of angsty people these days staring fixedly into a perceived political abyss. Obsessed. Thoroughly hung up.
We all have anxieties, of course. Things nag at us, prickle our minds, but without consuming us like mental whipworms. The obsessed worrier develops a persistent and disturbing preoccupation and can’t give it up.
You’ll be chatting with one of these modern-day Ahabs, talking about, say, the weather, and the next thing you know he’s ranting about his “white whale” thing. You change the subject to baseball and suddenly the whale is on third base and threatening to steal home. Monomania is not an attractive characteristic and certainly doesn’t enhance conversation.
It’s comical after a while, actually, and that’s uncomfortable: Being amused by a person losing his mind is seriously unkind. Yet when obsession leads to compulsion—wherein the person acts out in unhealthy ways—one’s natural pool of compassion begins to dry up.
On top of all that, a fixated person is a boring person. All trains of thought seem to run to the same station. The person’s mind takes flight and where does it always land? Whaleville. To become that transfixed diminishes a personality.
Anyway, the good news is there’s an organization out there that can help. It’s called Move Along Monster—Away! (MAMA!)
What MAMA! does essentially is what every mother does. First, the manic is calmed through sympathetic listening. Then the monstrous fears bedeviling the person are pared to rational levels of concern. Finally, the nature of change is explained —that it can be discomfiting but often leads to progress and personal growth. At the end of the session, the person is given a hug and a plate of cookies.
Not every Captain Ahab responds positively to MAMA!’s gentle counseling, of course. Some stomp away on their ivory peglegs and re-enlist in the foamy fray until, finally, their whale rises up and takes them down. And life goes on for everyone else. Sad.
There are quite a few out there needing a political MAMA!