Removing the ‘I’ out of life [LFE?]

This is post four of a series titled: Monica’s Mind-Blowing Trip Through Existential Philosophy.

Although we’ve accepted there is (or can be) value in invented meaning, despite its lack of intrinsic meaning, this doesn’t mean we simply go back to the way we were before we started thinking about all this stuff. To do so would be to deny our new-found freedom. But what to do with it and how? It was a task the existentialists dedicated themselves to.

Let’s go through some of the concepts they wrote about:

1. Focus on concrete existence

Man exists in a state of distance from the world that he nonetheless remains in the midst of. This distance is what enables man to project meaning into the disinterested world of in-itselfs. This projected meaning remains fragile, constantly facing breakdown for any reason — from a tragedy to a particularly insightful moment. In such a breakdown, we are put face to face with the naked meaninglessness of the world, and the results can be devastating.

It is in relation to the concept of the devastating awareness of meaningless that Albert Camus claimed that “there is only one truly serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide” in his The Myth of Sisyphus. Although “prescriptions” against the possibly deleterious consequences of these kinds of encounters vary, from Kierkegaard’s religious “stage” to Camus’ insistence on persevering in spite of absurdity, the concern with helping people avoid living their lives in ways that put them in the perpetual danger of having everything meaningful break down is common to most existentialist philosophers. (Wikipedia)

Your relationship with meaning, now that you’ve become aware that it’s projected and invented, couldn’t possibly be the same before, if you have truly believe it (which is very difficult to do. I wouldn’t at all claim it’s penetrated me to the core yet.) Here’s an example,

Let’s say you’re an Olympic runner. And all your life you’ve felt like it was your destiny to run. It was what you were born to do! However, one evening there is a storm, and you crash your car into a tree. Your leg is damaged to the point that your Olympic career is cut prematurely short. At this point two things might happen to you:

a. You can continue that “fantasy”* (or truth?) of there being intrinsic meaning in the universe and believe that this accident was destiny also. It happened because the universe was telling you you’re meant to do something else with your life.

(Or for me another example are those parents who lose their child to bulimia or drugs or whatever, and then write a book or go on a speaking circuit, trying to convince kids not to go down the same path. As a way of coping with grief they begin to believe this is why their kid died, because it led to them going on the speaking tour, and saving other kids. When it actual fact the kid died because … well lots of kids die senselessly. All the time.)

b. You realise, with a sense of despair and bitterness, that in fact you were never “meant” to do anything. The universe had never cared one ounce about getting you on that Olympic gold podium, and hence had taken it away from you without any thought or awareness of you at all. The tragedy makes you realise there’s no meaning to anything which leaves you feeling suicidal.

Obviously the second option isn’t too good. But the first is only good if you’re steady as a rock. A brave and steely heart is required to invest so concretely in an invisible, enigmatic higher power that works in such mysterious ways, never revealing to you the plan behind all the changing circumstances that inevitably arise in life. (Religious faith may help provide that steadiness.)

Of course, there is actually a third option.

What if you had never assumed in the first place you were born to do anything. Your talent in running happened as a matter of circumstance: you were born with the ideal runner’s body and temperament, and given the right opportunities and upbringing. Upon the accident, you would obviously feel disappointed. But you wouldn’t feel devastated, because unlike the person in letter B, you never saw your self, or the purpose of your life as a fixed entity.

And in actual fact, if you took this is to the nth degree, one would never feel ashamed or proud of anything one did. Because even the self has no intrinsic meaning.

Previously I asked if you believed in a Supreme Being. But perhaps an equally pertinent question is, do you believe you have a soul? And isn’t believing one has a soul just as faith-based as believing there is a God?

Perhaps, after all, we are just cells, carbon, atoms, just like everything else. That our feelings and thoughts are just electrical impulses. And that this mass of things that is conceptually thought of as ‘me’ or ‘Monica’ is just stuff – stuff as natural and present and perpetually rearranging and recycling as every other “stuff” in this universe.

Of course, it’s very difficult to break down that belief in the ‘I’. Because everyone else keeps making you feel like an ‘I’. People are perpetually reaffirming the ‘I’ for you, and making you believe you are fat, skinny, weird, smart, dumb, funny, popular, vain, despicable, talented etc. when it actual fact you ARE none of these things. You are just stuff, and not a YOU at all.

There are times where we do forget about the ‘I’. Anytime when we’re absorbed in living. Like when you’ve just completed a 3 hour trek up a mountain and you’re looking at the most stunning 360 view and no thoughts are running through your head, you’re just there, silent and in quiet awe.

Or when you’re absorbed in work, in study, in music, in sport. Anytime when you are completely and utterly engaged in the present, and, very importantly, feeling calm, in a “zen-like state”.

(You might be utterly engaged in an activity, but if you are simultaneously overwhelmed by emotion it remains an affirmation of self. Despair, anger, shame, pride, jealousy, vanity, fear – these all come about because you feel like something has happened or may happen to you, or you’ve done something, or you are responsible for something.)

It is the little running commentary in your head and that great scope of intense, complicated emotion, where the ‘I’ lives. It is that which separates us from babies, animals, plants, the mountains and sky. We, unlike them, are conscious (perhaps falsely) of being. And, “this distance is what enables man to project meaning into the disinterested world of in-itselfs.”

Removing one’s ego (the goal of Buddhism, by the way) does not mean the removal of all responsibility from one’s action. It simply means building an awareness that one’s actions are not attached to a non-existent self, but are intimately connected to everything else – to the point of dissolution.

Perhaps you’ve already noticed that I am planning to adopt much of the Buddhist approach into my life. But I don’t want to get too sidetracked, for now let’s continue on with the Existential concepts in the next post!

*I called it “fantasy”, but strictly speaking I wouldn’t claim FOR SURE that there isn’t intrinsic meaning, only that we don’t and probably can’t know whether it exists or not. When you don’t want to invest in absolutes, you have to begin bandying a lot of “maybes” out there!