You have heard the expression “force of habit.” What does it mean?
It is defined as behavior that has become involuntary or automatic through long practice or frequent repetition. It is an act that (for good or bad) occurs without as much as a second thought. It is sometimes called a knee-jerk reaction.
This can be scary. Isn’t this what often gets us into inextricable trouble? How often, after a horrendous booboo, have you asked yourself, “What was I thinking?”
The problem is precisely that we weren’t thinking at all. We were on “automatic.” How sad it is that our mindless instincts can create such havoc for us and for others.
A wise man once said that we become what we repeatedly do. We are creatures of habit. Oh, if only this was for the good.
Second nature
Some people are in the habit of lying. We call them compulsive liars. It is their second nature to skillfully sidestep the truth, expertly bend it into the shape and color that suit them and seamlessly carry on pretending to all and sundry that what they speak is gospel.
It takes a warped kind of talent to do this. It displays a lack or total absence of shame.
Know anyone who fits the description? Hold me back, folks! My list is long. But let’s keep it friendly.
Often I get whimsical and wish (upon a star) that Jiminy Cricket were real. Remember him? He was the talking, singing, dancing cricket in the 1940 Disney animated film “Pinocchio,” the story about a wooden puppet that became a real boy.
Jiminy was this wise, optimistic, well-meaning cricket that was Pinocchio’s teacher, guide and faithful friend. In the movie, the Blue Fairy knighted Jiminy as Pinocchio’s Official Conscience.
In that scene, the Blue Fairy asks Jiminy to kneel. A bit apprehensive, he obeys.
The Fairy speaks: “I dub you Pinocchio’s conscience, lord high keeper of the knowledge of right and wrong, counselor in moments of high temptation, and guide along the straight and narrow path. Arise, Sir Jiminy Cricket.”
Moral conscience
Here’s an interesting tidbit.
The character of Jiminy was a creation of Carlo Collodi whose book “The Adventures of Pinocchio” was turned by the genius of Walt Disney into the unforgettable and, today, still-relevant movie “Pinocchio.”
Although it was his debut as the talking cricket, the name was first used in 1937 in Disney’s “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.” It was heard again in 1939 in “The Wizard of Oz” when Dorothy, amazed by the pyrotechnics in Emerald City, exclaimed: “Jiminy Cricket!”
Many people use it as a polite, mild expletive of sorts, really wanting to say “Jesus Christ” but afraid to blaspheme or be irreverent.
Is that why the initials are J.C.? Interesting.
After the blockbuster movie, Jiminy Cricket became a symbol of truth and a moral conscience on radio specials, educational shows and the Mickey Mouse Club. He is one of the characters who meet and greet the millions that visit Disney Parks and Resorts, and rides on a float with Pinocchio every night in the “Celebrate a Dream Come True” parade.
I love the role he played as the Ghost of Christmas Past in “Mickey’s Christmas Carol.” Jiminy’s unforgettable encounter with Scrooge has the old miser pleading to get rid of the ugly scenes of his past.
The cricket’s priceless retort: “You fashioned those memories yourself.” We all do, don’t we?
My favorite scene in “Pinocchio” is where the Blue Fairy tells Geppetto’s new son that as a real person he will have to “learn to choose between right and wrong” and Pinocchio asks: “How will I know?”
The Blue Fairy says: “Your conscience will tell you.” Again Pinocchio asks, “What is a conscience?”
Jiminy has the answer: “A conscience is that still small voice that people won’t listen to. That’s the trouble with the world today.”
Lesson to remember
A lowly little cricket gave us all a lesson to remember. But what most of us vividly recall is that Pinocchio’s nose grew longer with every lie he told. As a child I thought it was hysterically funny. Did we all miss the point?
If this happened in our world today, there would be no room in the courts of law, the halls of Congress, blue-ribbon inquiries and the hallowed corridors of power for all the long noses.
They say that if you keep repeating a lie, you eventually believe it to be the truth. In time you can’t tell the difference. We lie from force of habit and the lies get bigger and we sink deeper.
I have yet to meet a happy liar. He is paranoid, afraid of getting caught. People who tell the truth have nothing to hide, nothing that they must remember or memorize. They sleep well at night. Like the saying goes, there is no softer pillow than a clear conscience.
Some of us are so deep into lying that before we know it we are enslaved; trapped by our own folly and can’t find our way out of the cage.
English poet and essayist Samuel Johnson wrote: “The chains of habit are too weak to be felt until they become too strong to be broken.” Think about it.
It’s Holy Week. Remember He is the Way, the TRUTH, and the Life.
