Brain Wedgie

By now, y’all know how very into Albert Camus I am.  Dude, posed a lot of the same questions I think about while stuck in morning stop-and-go traffic.

I’m often tempted to yell at those drivers who weave in and out of the line of cars, trying to go forward a few more feet than the rest of us, “Hey, dumb-ass, stop thinking you’re getting ahead of us. We’re all driving in the same direction.”

We’re all driving the same direction…And I don’t mean to work, but the overwhelming certainty that we are headed towards death. You may not die today, it may not even this year, but it’s where we’re all going.

You might think it’s another morning commute to just another workday, but that’s one more day the clock ticks forward towards your final hour. 

Please tell me I’m not the only one who thinks about this shit.

I had a classmate in high school named Juan who talked about Existentialism and the Absurd often. His favorite book was “Waiting for Godot” and he liked to pose uncomfortably piercing questions about life’s meaning.

I often tuned him out when he started on one of his tirades. I'd roll my eyes, and pretended to be amused by his perplexity when the truth was, it frightened me to peer into the abyss like that.

To answer that question, “What is the meaning of life if ultimately one’s existence is meaningless? ” unraveled my illusion of  control.  

It was a comfort to me to have the set of rules society (don't be a prude, but don't be a slut either, conform with my peers, learn to bend to the patriarchy) and my parents (good grades, go to Church,  sex will ruin your life) provided me. The deal was if I was good girl: if I got the good grades, if I never broke the rules, if I abstained from exploring my sexuality, if I gave up all my power, then in return, I would have a good life.

I didn’t know it then, but I was actually following Aristotle’s rules for Eudaimonia, a life of flourishing, where a person is constantly striving for self-improvement, to be more virtuous, more wise, more thoughtful, and self aware…basically to become a better person.  From how I understand it, Aristotle is saying there’s a proper way to be a human being, and the way you are now, isn’t good enough to be your best self. No wonder Young Me, the girl with anorexic-thin self-esteem, gravitated towards this idea of unattainable perfection.

Holy shit! Is that where Deepak Oprah got that idea for Living Your Best Life?

Anyways, back to what I was saying…

My friend Juan scored a 1560 on his SATs, while I barely made it to the four-digit range, so it’s not surprising that it took my brain almost two decades to catch up to Juan.

A lot of shit happened. Stuff happened to the world. I saw good people suffer while bad ones were undeservedly rewarded.  You could become your best self and your life could still be awful. You’re not going to be handed some prize because you think you deserve it. Life is gonna suck some major sweaty balls, and nothing will go the way you planned, and you gotta be able to stay sane through it all.

It’s sorta laughable to look back and remember how I tried to plan for the future.  I liken it to being in yoga tree position while surfing a giant tsunami wave.

You know how vegans are to vegetarians? Well, I think that’s how Absurdists are to Existentialists.  

The official definition of the Absurd is: the contradiction between humanity’s desire to find meaning in the universe and the universe itself, which is completely meaningless. Sisyphus is used as an example a lot to explain this philosophy.

So… basically I’m grappling through an attempt to create a meaningful life in an otherwise uncaring universe that finds my existence as nothing special. I’m going to be pushing a damn boulder up a hill and watch it go down and I have to do this again and again with no end in sight.

The universe doesn’t give a shit about you.

See what I mean about the abyss?

I can’t really stare at it too long. I’m not that brave.

Camus writes that there are several ways we deal with this realization.

1.     Suicide-hence that famous quote of his.

2.     Distraction- hedonist lifestyle and gorge yourself in food and sex and entertainment

3.     Denial- Either go all organized religion, where you live a life that is considered meaningful by a deity, or go the existential route, where you live a life finding meaning on your own terms.

4.     Be an actor-play pretend

5.     Be an artist-create something that has meaning

6.     Be a politician-and I’m talking the greats here like Alexander

And the one Camus recommends-

7.     Acceptance- realizing that your life is pointless but living it, realizing that you’re still going to search for a point.  {”One must imagine Sisyphus happy.”} 

 I think what #7 is saying is by owning what little time you have, its like giving the middle finger to the universe. Something that doesn’t care, much less realize, that you exist. 

I think I’m doing #2, #3, and #5.

“Those who have a why to live can bear with almost any how.” Victor Frankle by way of Nietzsche.

The one thing I can control is how I react to the next serving of bullshit that life slops on my plate, and that’s probably why existentialism appeals to me. I like to think my life is in my own hands. I don't feel that my life is pointless when I tell myself that I have the power to make my life great and only I could evaluate its greatness. I want to have lived a good life.  I don’t want to die miserable, feeling like my life was wasted. I don’t want to have to swallow a drop of regret vinaigrette.

So, I gotta ask myself…

Am I living the way I think I should?

Am I working toward goals I actually care about?

Family. Personal relationships. Money. Prestige. Career. Leisure time. Pleasure. Positively impacting the world... How important are these things to me? If my life has no default meaning other than the ones I decide on, are these in the right order?

I don't have the complete answers to these questions. Right now, I think just being aware that the choices I making, the way I spend my time, are shaping the life I end up living.

Choose wisely, Me. The clock is still ticking.

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