“Know thyself.” This advice, attributed to several individuals, has survived for centuries because of its continued relevance—the idea of knowing oneself, of understanding one’s own strengths, weaknesses, and motivations without depending upon others to recognize and accurately report them, is still incredibly important today.
Knowing oneself includes understanding one’s limitations. The great philosopher Socrates emphasized the importance of recognizing his own ignorance. When a person is able to see his limitations and weaknesses, he is more adequately prepared to defend himself and compensate. If he is ignorant of his failings, he cannot prepare himself and is more susceptible to harm. A physical example of this would be a weak spot in a soldier’s armor—if he knew about the more vulnerable spot, he could hold a shield in front of it or have the armor patched. However, if he had not inspected his armor carefully and noticed the weak spot, he would be much more likely to be injured if he were hit there. But this concept also applies to psychological weaknesses; for example, if a person is aware that he tends to succumb easily to temptation, he can make a conscious effort to recognize and then resist the temptation to do things that could be detrimental to himself or others.
Knowledge of oneself also incorporates awareness of one’s strengths, which one can then use to one’s advantage. Those who do not take the time to consider what their greatest strength is may not be using this strength to its full potential, while those who do recognize their strengths can put them to greater use and even concentrate on improving them further.
Beyond simply recognizing strengths and weaknesses, however, truly knowing oneself also includes an understanding of how one thinks, one’s motivations for acting in certain ways, and even how one is affected by outside forces. This understanding is vital to being able to understand and better connect to others. Being able to recognize in others the same emotions, motivations, and tendencies that one sees in oneself creates a deeper connection to other individuals and also to humanity as a whole.
Gaining objective self-knowledge is not always easy, however. Pride and fear both prevent us from admitting to our weaknesses, while modesty can prevent us from recognizing our strengths. It is often scary to look deeply into oneself and see what is really there, rather than what one wants to or expects to see. Even once one discovers one’s strengths and weaknesses, relating them to others is difficult; these qualities are somewhat personal and objectively writing about them is little easier than initially realizing them. It seems easier to try to avoid dissecting oneself than to discover one’s weaknesses, but in the long run, the unease and discomfort that accompany self-knowledge are outweighed by the benefits of a greater self-understanding. Attempting, then, to objectively discover and relate my own strengths and weaknesses, here is what I have found:
My biggest weakness seems to be my shyness. My friends do not always recognize this characteristic in me because I am comfortable around them and therefore do not really fear confiding in or voicing my opinions to them. But I am generally a quiet person, and under some circumstances this quietness can grow into a shyness that leaves me unwilling to talk almost at all. I enjoy meeting new people, but sometimes making conversation is difficult—what if I say something that gives people the wrong impression of me? What if I just seem boring? I prefer to listen to what other people have to say rather than be the one talking; being the center of attention tends to make me uncomfortable. Unfortunately, unless I make a conscious effort to almost force myself to talk, I can have a difficult time getting to know new people and tend to rely on talkative and outgoing people to come to me first.
Besides being a social hindrance, my shyness can affect my levels of class participation. Teachers sometimes think that I am not paying attention or do not understand the material if I do not speak up in class, but really I just do not want to draw attention to myself by speaking in front of everyone. Again, I almost force myself to talk because remaining silent only perpetuates my relatively detrimental shyness.
Discovering my strengths is more difficult than listing my weaknesses; discerning my greatest strength is harder still. Nearly everything that comes to mind bears a strong resemblance to a college essay. Yet despite its resemblance to a college essay topic, my greatest strength honestly seems to be my desire for knowledge. When I think of what I have achieved so far in life, my greatest accomplishments are often academic—taking hard courses, preparing myself to go to a good college, etc. But my main motivation for taking high-level courses and striving to do well is not so much a desire to out-perform others and impress colleges; rather, it is based in a sincere desire to learn. One of the best examples of my eagerness to learn for learning’s sake is my attitude toward a certain AP class which should remain nameless. I signed up for this AP class expecting a difficult course in which we would cover a certain number of works of literature and also improve our writing skills. However, nearly halfway through the year, the class is moving at a painfully slow pace. I have no reason to complain; every day I get one period in which hardly any thinking is required. I do not need to worry about a heavy workload. I have a good grade in the class because of my performance on the few tests we have. I do not really need to worry about taking the AP test; by May, I will already be accepted into a college and can just as easily take a placement exam to get into a higher level college course. So why do I want to rip my hair out every time we do nothing in class? I honestly just want to learn. I want to read good literature and become a better writer out of pure enjoyment of the subject. I see this desire for knowledge as a strength because since college and a career are not my sole motivations for learning, after I have graduated college and eventually retired from whichever career I choose, my knowledge will still be important to me and I will still want to learn as much as possible.
Having reflected upon my personal strengths and weaknesses, I hope that I have gained a slightly better understanding of who I am. Knowing that my weakness is shyness, I can attempt to be at least a little more talkative. And seeing that my desire to learn is a strength, I can try to always challenge myself even further, learning outside of class when even my AP class is not sufficiently educational. I feel as though now, at least a little more than at the start of this blog, I know myself.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Good Advice
“Think positively. Even if you’re wrong, think positively.” When my grandfather gave me this advice in eighth grade, I do not know if he predicted how long-lasting his words would be to me. I certainly did not realize that I would find his advice to be so significant years later.
I no longer remember the exact circumstance under which Grandpa gave me this advice, but I know that at the time, I was feeling frustrated with several aspects of my life. I may have been talking to him about not wanting to go to school because it was boring and my teachers were ineffective, or I could have been disappointed about my friends causing unnecessary social drama. In any case, I expressed to him my disappointment and my suspicion that matters would not soon improve. And he told me, “Think positively. Even if you’re wrong, think positively.” Being in a bad mood at the time, I did not easily accept this advice. I would never have openly contradicted my grandfather, but it seemed stupid to try to convince myself that everything was going well when it simply was not. Lying to myself, I thought, could never improve a situation. So I chose to ignore Grandpa’s advice, adopting a relatively pessimistic outlook on life; every time something, however insignificant, went wrong, it added to my frustration and negativity.
Around the same time, someone who was very close to me began to show signs of depression. Initially, her symptoms were no different from my own general attitude: pessimism, frustration, and an inability or unwillingness to see the good in things. But her depression worsened and I saw that she needed to somehow stop the flow of negative thought. I also saw how controlling her pessimism had become and I feared that I was headed down the same path as her. I was reminded of Grandpa’s emphasis on thinking positively and suddenly I understood the real meaning of his advice. Grandpa was not suggesting that I begin lying to myself in an effort to trick myself into false optimism; rather, he saw the necessity of breaking a cycle of negative thought at all costs. Even if the break in the cycle were forced, not the result of true optimism, it at least allowed room for sincere optimism to develop. Forcing oneself to initially break the habit of thinking negatively may include a small untruth, but allowing pessimism to continue uninhibited causes a more persistent and harmful form of lie as our own perception of the good and bad in life becomes skewed.
With the meaning of Grandpa’s advice in mind, then, I began to force myself to consider the most positive aspects of my life. Maybe I did not like one of my teachers, but at least I could look forward to learning about a cool topic in class or taking part in a lively class discussion. And as I forced myself out of routine pessimism, I saw that overall, things were not so bad. Yes, I had my share of problems to deal with, but an optimistic outlook helped me to better handle them. Meanwhile, my depressed friend had a difficult time breaking her cycle of unhappiness. Unwilling to see the good in anything or even try to convince herself to be positive in order to break the cycle of pessimism, she took a long time to finally become happy again and regain the optimism that is necessary to surviving the less enjoyable aspects of life.
When I was first told, “Think positively. Even if you’re wrong, think positively,” I almost discarded the advice, thinking it would simply encourage fakeness, but I later came to see just how important this advice is. What Grandpa really meant was, “Don’t let yourself habitually think negatively. Even if you have to consciously force yourself out of it, never let yourself get stuck in a cycle of negative thinking.” Having figured out exactly what Grandpa’s advice meant and having begun the process of optimism, I never again reverted to constant pessimism. This year, I have again faced sources of frustration both in academics and in my social life. And while I cannot ignore these problems, I can prevent them from overtaking me by bearing in mind the positive aspects of my life. So thank you, Grandpa, for telling me to think positively.
I no longer remember the exact circumstance under which Grandpa gave me this advice, but I know that at the time, I was feeling frustrated with several aspects of my life. I may have been talking to him about not wanting to go to school because it was boring and my teachers were ineffective, or I could have been disappointed about my friends causing unnecessary social drama. In any case, I expressed to him my disappointment and my suspicion that matters would not soon improve. And he told me, “Think positively. Even if you’re wrong, think positively.” Being in a bad mood at the time, I did not easily accept this advice. I would never have openly contradicted my grandfather, but it seemed stupid to try to convince myself that everything was going well when it simply was not. Lying to myself, I thought, could never improve a situation. So I chose to ignore Grandpa’s advice, adopting a relatively pessimistic outlook on life; every time something, however insignificant, went wrong, it added to my frustration and negativity.
Around the same time, someone who was very close to me began to show signs of depression. Initially, her symptoms were no different from my own general attitude: pessimism, frustration, and an inability or unwillingness to see the good in things. But her depression worsened and I saw that she needed to somehow stop the flow of negative thought. I also saw how controlling her pessimism had become and I feared that I was headed down the same path as her. I was reminded of Grandpa’s emphasis on thinking positively and suddenly I understood the real meaning of his advice. Grandpa was not suggesting that I begin lying to myself in an effort to trick myself into false optimism; rather, he saw the necessity of breaking a cycle of negative thought at all costs. Even if the break in the cycle were forced, not the result of true optimism, it at least allowed room for sincere optimism to develop. Forcing oneself to initially break the habit of thinking negatively may include a small untruth, but allowing pessimism to continue uninhibited causes a more persistent and harmful form of lie as our own perception of the good and bad in life becomes skewed.
With the meaning of Grandpa’s advice in mind, then, I began to force myself to consider the most positive aspects of my life. Maybe I did not like one of my teachers, but at least I could look forward to learning about a cool topic in class or taking part in a lively class discussion. And as I forced myself out of routine pessimism, I saw that overall, things were not so bad. Yes, I had my share of problems to deal with, but an optimistic outlook helped me to better handle them. Meanwhile, my depressed friend had a difficult time breaking her cycle of unhappiness. Unwilling to see the good in anything or even try to convince herself to be positive in order to break the cycle of pessimism, she took a long time to finally become happy again and regain the optimism that is necessary to surviving the less enjoyable aspects of life.
When I was first told, “Think positively. Even if you’re wrong, think positively,” I almost discarded the advice, thinking it would simply encourage fakeness, but I later came to see just how important this advice is. What Grandpa really meant was, “Don’t let yourself habitually think negatively. Even if you have to consciously force yourself out of it, never let yourself get stuck in a cycle of negative thinking.” Having figured out exactly what Grandpa’s advice meant and having begun the process of optimism, I never again reverted to constant pessimism. This year, I have again faced sources of frustration both in academics and in my social life. And while I cannot ignore these problems, I can prevent them from overtaking me by bearing in mind the positive aspects of my life. So thank you, Grandpa, for telling me to think positively.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
On The Meaning of Life
We, as human beings, are unique in our ability to question why we exist. Yet rarely do we arrive at a definite answer. We all must die eventually, and in the grand scheme of things, an individual lifetime passes in the blink of an eye. No human being can triumph over time or nature; though we might try to leave our mark on Earth after we die, ultimately, little that we do will truly matter and nothing will impact the universe at large. Given these brutal truths, what makes life worth living? If there is a heaven, why do not more people rush to enter it? Why do we try to convince the depressed and the suicidal that their lives are meaningful and that they should continue to live if we ourselves are not sure of the meaning of life? Clearly there must be some deeper purpose to life than to toil on Earth and endure misfortunes for an average of seventy-something years before dying.
In Christian and other religions, human beings are taught to gain happiness in life through faith in a God, selflessness, and the knowledge that virtuous actions not only help others but also will be rewarded with eternal life for the soul after physical death. Such religions, therefore, seem to suggest that the afterlife is more important than that on Earth, functioning as a sort of goal to achieve or even as a bribe to ensure that people remain moral. According to such religions, the value of a person’s life is measured through his good deeds and his sins; judgment is passed by a supreme being (God) after death. A person can anticipate the judging process, however, through various rules outlined during this lifetime. For Christians, such guidelines for living a rewarding life include following the Ten Commandments, avoiding sinning--particularly the Seven Deadly Sins--and possessing various virtues*. For ancient Egyptians, a very similar system, outlined in the Book of the Dead, was used. In both religions, the soul is judged; in Christianity, the soul faces God and is either granted entrance to heaven or damned to hell, while in ancient Egyptian, the soul of the deceased is weighed on a scale and then is either sent to a pleasant afterlife or is eaten.
But while such religious beliefs base the meaning of life on Earth on life after death, they do not always provide a fulfilling answer to why we should continue to struggle through this life, especially for those who question the existence of a God and an afterlife or who simply experience a general feeling of futility and dissatisfaction with life. For these reasons, human beings struggle to find a meaning to life that is based on the present.
Often, the best way to discover the meaning of life is to consider that which one wants to possess or have accomplished or experienced before death. These values take on many different forms among different people and groups of people, yet common themes unite them and give us insight into the true meaning of life.
Before the end of my life, one thing that I personally want to experience is travel. I want to view firsthand famous human accomplishments such as the Eiffel Tower and the Great Wall of China, but I also want to witness the beauty of nature around the world. For me, the desire to travel is based on a desire to gain understanding of people around the world and also of the world itself and my place within it. The wish to travel seems to be universal: tourists, foreign exchange students, and backpackers all journey for various reasons but the end result is hopefully a better understanding of humanity, which adds value to life through its ability to help people appreciate their time on Earth and connect to fellow human beings.
Another experience that I want (and need) in life is love. Love takes many forms, including love for family and friends, romantic love, and love of humanity as exemplified by the Greek concept of agape and the Christian teaching of charity. I have already been fortunate enough to experience love in several forms, but human beings are never finished experiencing or needing to experience love. People are not meant to be entirely isolated; the ability to connect to fellow people in the form of love is vital. For this reason, many people want to marry, raise a family, and maintain close friendships, all of which provide a different form of love and add meaning to the life of the person receiving such love. But love can also add meaning to the life of the giver, especially in the instance of love for humanity. As Charles Dickens wrote, “No one is useless in this world who lightens the burdens of another.” Many people seek a sense of fulfillment in life through their love of humankind and a desire to aid others, as humanitarian actions instill in the giver a sense that his or her deeds attribute to the greater good but also directly affect the lives of individuals.
Yet another of my desires is to learn as much as possible before I die. At times, this desire seems useless because when a person dies, all the knowledge that he has gained is lost; even if this knowledge has been recorded or passed on to others, ultimately, it will not last. But I seek knowledge because of the personal thrill and sense of accomplishment that it gives me. Though I may not become the most intelligent and knowledgeable person ever, I still feel a sense of pride upon mastering a skill or understanding a concept, and I can measure my own accomplishments relative to each other, always striving to achieve more. Similarly, other people make use of their bodies and minds while trying to break records in athletics, make new scientific discoveries, etc. These accomplishments do not need to be measured on a world scale in order for them to add a sense of achievement and meaning to the lives of the people responsible for them.
Another reason for my love of learning is my belief that an understanding of oneself is invaluable in life. Joseph Conrad commented, “Droll thing life is—that mysterious arrangement of merciless logic for a futile purpose. The most you can hope from it is some knowledge of yourself—that comes too late—a crop of unextinguishable regrets.” Though his perception of life is rather grim, he recognizes that perhaps the most important thing is knowledge of oneself. The more I learn about others and about the world in general, the more I am able to apply what I learn toward myself and gain insight into my place in the world and how I can best make myself happy, ultimately making my life seem more worthwhile and meaningful.
As discussed in relation to Gilgamesh, the human desire to attempt to overcome mortality, even temporarily, in the form of a legacy is universal. Even with the knowledge that there is no true permanence, I, like nearly everyone, would like to establish some form of legacy to leave behind me when I die, though I am not yet sure which form I would like this legacy to take. People do not want to die knowing that they soon will be forgotten; it is a comfort to know that one will somehow be remembered, and the desire to create a legacy (in the form of children, a work of art, etc.) offers people a goal in life which grants additional meaning and reason to continue living.
A common desire, especially among slightly older people, is to “settle down.” At the moment, I do not want to settle down, yet I do not doubt that I will have the desire to do so before the end of my life. After people have experienced the activity of life and accomplished some of their goals, they often wish to slow down and establish a feeling of calmness and stability. Moving to the suburbs or countryside, retiring, or taking the time to raise a family are all forms of “settling down.” This desire for calmness suggests a search for the meaning of life on a very personal level, through reflection on and enjoyment of life.
The five experiences or desires above (travel, love, knowledge, leaving a legacy, and settling down) not only reflect my personal goals but also give insight into the values which provide human life with meaning. Three basic elements which stand out are happiness, understanding of one’s place in the world, and a connection with other human beings. The last two elements are relatively self-explanatory; both provide individuals with a larger framework in which to place their lives and see that while they may not leave a permanent mark on the universe, they do affect other human beings. Happiness, however, is a broader concept and its importance in regard to a meaningful life has been debated since the times of Ancient Greece. While some philosophers argued that happiness and pleasure-seeking are the only means of attaining a good life, others believed that they are unnecessary and that virtue is ultimately the only good. The most reasonable philosophy, however, is that of Epicurus, who saw that pleasure is not necessarily harmful in moderation and when not at the expense of others. Happiness, therefore, does play a role in living a meaningful life, provided that such happiness is not the result of actions that are detrimental to others. In this sense, the three elements of a meaningful life on Earth (regardless of whether or not an afterlife exists) do not necessarily invalidate religious teachings; in fact, the concepts of virtue taught by most religions tend to follow naturally from these elements. If one truly understands humanity, relates to others, and seeks happiness, one will have no need to resort to acts of violence or intolerance toward fellow human beings.
By basing the meaning of life on happiness, understanding of the world and one’s place in it, and connections with other human beings, we do not need to wait until the afterlife (if one exists) to judge the value of our lives. We can judge our lives in the present and can see their importance now, even in spite of their failure to last forever.
*The Ten Commandments: 1)You shall have no other gods before me 2)You shall not make for yourself an idol […] you shall not bow down to them or worship them 3)You shall not make wrongful use of the name of the Lord your God 4)Remember the Sabbath day, and keep it holy 5)Honor your father and your mother 6)You shall not murder 7)You shall not commit adultery 8)You shall not steal 9)You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor 10)You shall not covet your neighbor’s wife […] or anything that belongs to your neighbor
The Seven Deadly Sins: pride, envy, anger, sloth, greed, gluttony, lust
Various Christian virtues: love, hope, faith, charity, temperance, justice
In Christian and other religions, human beings are taught to gain happiness in life through faith in a God, selflessness, and the knowledge that virtuous actions not only help others but also will be rewarded with eternal life for the soul after physical death. Such religions, therefore, seem to suggest that the afterlife is more important than that on Earth, functioning as a sort of goal to achieve or even as a bribe to ensure that people remain moral. According to such religions, the value of a person’s life is measured through his good deeds and his sins; judgment is passed by a supreme being (God) after death. A person can anticipate the judging process, however, through various rules outlined during this lifetime. For Christians, such guidelines for living a rewarding life include following the Ten Commandments, avoiding sinning--particularly the Seven Deadly Sins--and possessing various virtues*. For ancient Egyptians, a very similar system, outlined in the Book of the Dead, was used. In both religions, the soul is judged; in Christianity, the soul faces God and is either granted entrance to heaven or damned to hell, while in ancient Egyptian, the soul of the deceased is weighed on a scale and then is either sent to a pleasant afterlife or is eaten.
But while such religious beliefs base the meaning of life on Earth on life after death, they do not always provide a fulfilling answer to why we should continue to struggle through this life, especially for those who question the existence of a God and an afterlife or who simply experience a general feeling of futility and dissatisfaction with life. For these reasons, human beings struggle to find a meaning to life that is based on the present.
Often, the best way to discover the meaning of life is to consider that which one wants to possess or have accomplished or experienced before death. These values take on many different forms among different people and groups of people, yet common themes unite them and give us insight into the true meaning of life.
Before the end of my life, one thing that I personally want to experience is travel. I want to view firsthand famous human accomplishments such as the Eiffel Tower and the Great Wall of China, but I also want to witness the beauty of nature around the world. For me, the desire to travel is based on a desire to gain understanding of people around the world and also of the world itself and my place within it. The wish to travel seems to be universal: tourists, foreign exchange students, and backpackers all journey for various reasons but the end result is hopefully a better understanding of humanity, which adds value to life through its ability to help people appreciate their time on Earth and connect to fellow human beings.
Another experience that I want (and need) in life is love. Love takes many forms, including love for family and friends, romantic love, and love of humanity as exemplified by the Greek concept of agape and the Christian teaching of charity. I have already been fortunate enough to experience love in several forms, but human beings are never finished experiencing or needing to experience love. People are not meant to be entirely isolated; the ability to connect to fellow people in the form of love is vital. For this reason, many people want to marry, raise a family, and maintain close friendships, all of which provide a different form of love and add meaning to the life of the person receiving such love. But love can also add meaning to the life of the giver, especially in the instance of love for humanity. As Charles Dickens wrote, “No one is useless in this world who lightens the burdens of another.” Many people seek a sense of fulfillment in life through their love of humankind and a desire to aid others, as humanitarian actions instill in the giver a sense that his or her deeds attribute to the greater good but also directly affect the lives of individuals.
Yet another of my desires is to learn as much as possible before I die. At times, this desire seems useless because when a person dies, all the knowledge that he has gained is lost; even if this knowledge has been recorded or passed on to others, ultimately, it will not last. But I seek knowledge because of the personal thrill and sense of accomplishment that it gives me. Though I may not become the most intelligent and knowledgeable person ever, I still feel a sense of pride upon mastering a skill or understanding a concept, and I can measure my own accomplishments relative to each other, always striving to achieve more. Similarly, other people make use of their bodies and minds while trying to break records in athletics, make new scientific discoveries, etc. These accomplishments do not need to be measured on a world scale in order for them to add a sense of achievement and meaning to the lives of the people responsible for them.
Another reason for my love of learning is my belief that an understanding of oneself is invaluable in life. Joseph Conrad commented, “Droll thing life is—that mysterious arrangement of merciless logic for a futile purpose. The most you can hope from it is some knowledge of yourself—that comes too late—a crop of unextinguishable regrets.” Though his perception of life is rather grim, he recognizes that perhaps the most important thing is knowledge of oneself. The more I learn about others and about the world in general, the more I am able to apply what I learn toward myself and gain insight into my place in the world and how I can best make myself happy, ultimately making my life seem more worthwhile and meaningful.
As discussed in relation to Gilgamesh, the human desire to attempt to overcome mortality, even temporarily, in the form of a legacy is universal. Even with the knowledge that there is no true permanence, I, like nearly everyone, would like to establish some form of legacy to leave behind me when I die, though I am not yet sure which form I would like this legacy to take. People do not want to die knowing that they soon will be forgotten; it is a comfort to know that one will somehow be remembered, and the desire to create a legacy (in the form of children, a work of art, etc.) offers people a goal in life which grants additional meaning and reason to continue living.
A common desire, especially among slightly older people, is to “settle down.” At the moment, I do not want to settle down, yet I do not doubt that I will have the desire to do so before the end of my life. After people have experienced the activity of life and accomplished some of their goals, they often wish to slow down and establish a feeling of calmness and stability. Moving to the suburbs or countryside, retiring, or taking the time to raise a family are all forms of “settling down.” This desire for calmness suggests a search for the meaning of life on a very personal level, through reflection on and enjoyment of life.
The five experiences or desires above (travel, love, knowledge, leaving a legacy, and settling down) not only reflect my personal goals but also give insight into the values which provide human life with meaning. Three basic elements which stand out are happiness, understanding of one’s place in the world, and a connection with other human beings. The last two elements are relatively self-explanatory; both provide individuals with a larger framework in which to place their lives and see that while they may not leave a permanent mark on the universe, they do affect other human beings. Happiness, however, is a broader concept and its importance in regard to a meaningful life has been debated since the times of Ancient Greece. While some philosophers argued that happiness and pleasure-seeking are the only means of attaining a good life, others believed that they are unnecessary and that virtue is ultimately the only good. The most reasonable philosophy, however, is that of Epicurus, who saw that pleasure is not necessarily harmful in moderation and when not at the expense of others. Happiness, therefore, does play a role in living a meaningful life, provided that such happiness is not the result of actions that are detrimental to others. In this sense, the three elements of a meaningful life on Earth (regardless of whether or not an afterlife exists) do not necessarily invalidate religious teachings; in fact, the concepts of virtue taught by most religions tend to follow naturally from these elements. If one truly understands humanity, relates to others, and seeks happiness, one will have no need to resort to acts of violence or intolerance toward fellow human beings.
By basing the meaning of life on happiness, understanding of the world and one’s place in it, and connections with other human beings, we do not need to wait until the afterlife (if one exists) to judge the value of our lives. We can judge our lives in the present and can see their importance now, even in spite of their failure to last forever.
*The Ten Commandments: 1)You shall have no other gods before me 2)You shall not make for yourself an idol […] you shall not bow down to them or worship them 3)You shall not make wrongful use of the name of the Lord your God 4)Remember the Sabbath day, and keep it holy 5)Honor your father and your mother 6)You shall not murder 7)You shall not commit adultery 8)You shall not steal 9)You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor 10)You shall not covet your neighbor’s wife […] or anything that belongs to your neighbor
The Seven Deadly Sins: pride, envy, anger, sloth, greed, gluttony, lust
Various Christian virtues: love, hope, faith, charity, temperance, justice
Sunday, September 30, 2007
The Blog Post That Will Not Last Forever
In The Epic of Gilgamesh, Utnapishtim replies to Gilgamesh’s search for eternal life with the brutal fact that “there is no permanence” (106). Yet Gilgamesh does not want to accept this answer; he still attempts to earn immortality through staying awake for seven days and still goes to great lengths to obtain a magical, age-reversing plant. Gilgamesh, like all human beings, struggles with the ideas of impermanence and death. These ideas are difficult to accept (both for Gilgamesh and for all humanity) because if one truly accepts that nothing is permanent or lasting, what motivation is there to keep living and trying to make one’s mark in this world? How do human beings cope with mortality on a daily basis, allowing them to get up every day and continue with their lives?
Human beings’ ability to handle impermanence can take two forms: we can either attempt to deny our fate and create a false sense of permanence, or we can accept natural mortality and enjoy life by living in the moment.
In today’s world, examples of human attempts to ignore mortality are everywhere, as people try to deny and even defy aging with the help of new medical procedures to prolong human life or make people seem younger. However, the results of such attempts are never permanent, and often seem very unnatural. Plastic surgery, for example, has the ability to lessen the wrinkles and sagging that are a normal part of aging; yet, wrinkled or not, we all must die eventually.
Oftentimes, even those who come to accept individual mortality deny the ultimate mortality of the human race and, essentially, everything. Such people understand that they cannot preserve their physical life forever but they attempt to preserve their memory by leaving some sort of legacy when they die. This legacy can take the form of children who will carry on their parents’ name and memory, or a building, monument, piece of art, or noteworthy deed which will ensure that its creator’s name is remembered. However, like the people who create them, such legacies are ultimately mortal. The futility of human beings’ attempts to establish permanent buildings, bridges, and cities is shown every time other human or natural forces destroy them. War, earthquakes, and flooding can destroy even the most well-built human edifices, which is not really surprising, as even mountains are subject to change. Such attempts to make a lasting mark suggest human beings’ inability to truly understand the concept of eternity. Forever is very different from a long time. If, in America, we believe that our country is old for having lasted over two hundred years, we should consider that the Epic of Gilgamesh has been around for thousands of years, the earth for billions, and the universe for much longer. In the grand scheme of things, therefore, nothing one person or even all of humanity does will truly have an effect; attempting to leave behind a lasting legacy is, therefore, another form of denying mortality.
In The Epic of Gilgamesh, Gilgamesh is initially unconcerned with mortality, mainly because he has not needed to consider it; he is depicted as a brave warrior and adventure-seeker who believes himself to be unbeatable in combat. Even when warned in a dream that his fate is to be a king but not an immortal, Gilgamesh does not express concern regarding the end of his life; on the contrary, he proposes an adventure (battling Humbaba) that will ensure his fame for years to come but involves a great deal of physical risk: “I will set up my name in the place where the names of famous men are written, and where no man’s name is written yet I will raise a monument to the gods” (70).
Gilgamesh’s desire to make his name famous reflects the basic human desire to avoid the fact of physical mortality through a legacy, but as Gilgamesh discovers, such an attempt does not reconcile him to his own mortality, which he still must come to terms with after Enkidu’s death.
The only way for human beings to truly accept mortality is to stop trying to attain
permanence and accept that ultimately they (and all that they accomplish) will disappear. This acceptance is very hard because for some, it seems to take away all meaning from life. What then provides us with a reason to live and prevents us from becoming cynical or apathetic? We as human beings must realize that though what we do will not have a permanent effect, we can still enjoy what time we have by “living in the moment.” Though it sounds cliché, this ability to enjoy life as it happens, rather than always searching for permanence, is the key to a happy and meaningful life because it is a reasonable goal. Those who make an effort to experience life as much as possible, enjoy the world around them, and improve themselves will be able to come to terms with mortality and die knowing that while what they did in their life will not last forever, it has lasted long enough to give their life meaning. A literary example of a character declaring his intention to enjoy life until he dies comes from Joseph Conrad’s The Nigger of the Narcissus, in which a man joins the crew of a ship, knowing that he is dying and is at times unable to fulfill his duties. When asked why he bothered to join under such circumstances, he replies, “I must live till I die—mustn’t I?”
For Gilgamesh, the transition from denial of mortality to acceptance is seen after a snake takes from him a magical plant that contains the power to make the elderly young again. Gilgamesh has endured a long and difficult journey to obtain immortality; he does not want to give up his search easily. When the snake takes the plant, he sits down and cries: “Was it for this that I toiled with my hands, is it for this I have wrung out my heart’s blood? For myself I have gained nothing; not I, but the beast of the earth has joy of it now” (117). Yet at this point in time, Gilgamesh finally gains acceptance of his mortality and sees that he truly is not meant to be immortal, saying, “I found a sign and now I have lost it. Let us leave the boat on the bank and go” (117). Here is where we see Gilgamesh finally abandon his quest for immortality and decide to return home, signifying his realization that it is best for him to go back to his kingdom. Incidentally, Gilgamesh obtains a sort of immortality when he has his story engraved on a stone. Though the story of Gilgamesh will not and cannot last forever, it has survived thousands of years longer than any human being could hope to live. Essentially, Gilgamesh’s acceptance of his mortality leads to the creation of his enduring legacy because had he obtained eternal life like Utnapishtim, he would most likely live in obscurity and never have his story written down.
Human beings have also devised a third way of dealing with impermanence, both creating a sense of eternalness and also accepting mortality through a belief in some sort of spiritual afterlife. This religious belief accepts that the body of a human being will ultimately die, but finds a loophole in mortality by saying that the spirit can live eternally in an afterlife, which can take the form of a Christian heaven and hell, the Egyptian afterlife, or many other similar concepts. This idea is not dealt with in Gilgamesh, as the Mesopotamians generally did not exhibit a particularly strong belief in an afterlife, but is still an important factor to consider, as it is yet another means for human beings to cope with a lack of permanence and give meaning to their lives.
Gilgamesh’s journey from denial of mortality to acceptance of the lack of permanence is a journey that all human beings must face. We are all confronted with the total lack of permanence in this world, and have different ways of trying to deal with this impermanence. Some people (ineffectually) attempt to deny impermanence, while those who learn to accept mortality find meaning in life through living in the moment.
Human beings’ ability to handle impermanence can take two forms: we can either attempt to deny our fate and create a false sense of permanence, or we can accept natural mortality and enjoy life by living in the moment.
In today’s world, examples of human attempts to ignore mortality are everywhere, as people try to deny and even defy aging with the help of new medical procedures to prolong human life or make people seem younger. However, the results of such attempts are never permanent, and often seem very unnatural. Plastic surgery, for example, has the ability to lessen the wrinkles and sagging that are a normal part of aging; yet, wrinkled or not, we all must die eventually.
Oftentimes, even those who come to accept individual mortality deny the ultimate mortality of the human race and, essentially, everything. Such people understand that they cannot preserve their physical life forever but they attempt to preserve their memory by leaving some sort of legacy when they die. This legacy can take the form of children who will carry on their parents’ name and memory, or a building, monument, piece of art, or noteworthy deed which will ensure that its creator’s name is remembered. However, like the people who create them, such legacies are ultimately mortal. The futility of human beings’ attempts to establish permanent buildings, bridges, and cities is shown every time other human or natural forces destroy them. War, earthquakes, and flooding can destroy even the most well-built human edifices, which is not really surprising, as even mountains are subject to change. Such attempts to make a lasting mark suggest human beings’ inability to truly understand the concept of eternity. Forever is very different from a long time. If, in America, we believe that our country is old for having lasted over two hundred years, we should consider that the Epic of Gilgamesh has been around for thousands of years, the earth for billions, and the universe for much longer. In the grand scheme of things, therefore, nothing one person or even all of humanity does will truly have an effect; attempting to leave behind a lasting legacy is, therefore, another form of denying mortality.
In The Epic of Gilgamesh, Gilgamesh is initially unconcerned with mortality, mainly because he has not needed to consider it; he is depicted as a brave warrior and adventure-seeker who believes himself to be unbeatable in combat. Even when warned in a dream that his fate is to be a king but not an immortal, Gilgamesh does not express concern regarding the end of his life; on the contrary, he proposes an adventure (battling Humbaba) that will ensure his fame for years to come but involves a great deal of physical risk: “I will set up my name in the place where the names of famous men are written, and where no man’s name is written yet I will raise a monument to the gods” (70).
Gilgamesh’s desire to make his name famous reflects the basic human desire to avoid the fact of physical mortality through a legacy, but as Gilgamesh discovers, such an attempt does not reconcile him to his own mortality, which he still must come to terms with after Enkidu’s death.
The only way for human beings to truly accept mortality is to stop trying to attain
permanence and accept that ultimately they (and all that they accomplish) will disappear. This acceptance is very hard because for some, it seems to take away all meaning from life. What then provides us with a reason to live and prevents us from becoming cynical or apathetic? We as human beings must realize that though what we do will not have a permanent effect, we can still enjoy what time we have by “living in the moment.” Though it sounds cliché, this ability to enjoy life as it happens, rather than always searching for permanence, is the key to a happy and meaningful life because it is a reasonable goal. Those who make an effort to experience life as much as possible, enjoy the world around them, and improve themselves will be able to come to terms with mortality and die knowing that while what they did in their life will not last forever, it has lasted long enough to give their life meaning. A literary example of a character declaring his intention to enjoy life until he dies comes from Joseph Conrad’s The Nigger of the Narcissus, in which a man joins the crew of a ship, knowing that he is dying and is at times unable to fulfill his duties. When asked why he bothered to join under such circumstances, he replies, “I must live till I die—mustn’t I?”
For Gilgamesh, the transition from denial of mortality to acceptance is seen after a snake takes from him a magical plant that contains the power to make the elderly young again. Gilgamesh has endured a long and difficult journey to obtain immortality; he does not want to give up his search easily. When the snake takes the plant, he sits down and cries: “Was it for this that I toiled with my hands, is it for this I have wrung out my heart’s blood? For myself I have gained nothing; not I, but the beast of the earth has joy of it now” (117). Yet at this point in time, Gilgamesh finally gains acceptance of his mortality and sees that he truly is not meant to be immortal, saying, “I found a sign and now I have lost it. Let us leave the boat on the bank and go” (117). Here is where we see Gilgamesh finally abandon his quest for immortality and decide to return home, signifying his realization that it is best for him to go back to his kingdom. Incidentally, Gilgamesh obtains a sort of immortality when he has his story engraved on a stone. Though the story of Gilgamesh will not and cannot last forever, it has survived thousands of years longer than any human being could hope to live. Essentially, Gilgamesh’s acceptance of his mortality leads to the creation of his enduring legacy because had he obtained eternal life like Utnapishtim, he would most likely live in obscurity and never have his story written down.
Human beings have also devised a third way of dealing with impermanence, both creating a sense of eternalness and also accepting mortality through a belief in some sort of spiritual afterlife. This religious belief accepts that the body of a human being will ultimately die, but finds a loophole in mortality by saying that the spirit can live eternally in an afterlife, which can take the form of a Christian heaven and hell, the Egyptian afterlife, or many other similar concepts. This idea is not dealt with in Gilgamesh, as the Mesopotamians generally did not exhibit a particularly strong belief in an afterlife, but is still an important factor to consider, as it is yet another means for human beings to cope with a lack of permanence and give meaning to their lives.
Gilgamesh’s journey from denial of mortality to acceptance of the lack of permanence is a journey that all human beings must face. We are all confronted with the total lack of permanence in this world, and have different ways of trying to deal with this impermanence. Some people (ineffectually) attempt to deny impermanence, while those who learn to accept mortality find meaning in life through living in the moment.
Monday, September 17, 2007
On Heroes
The idea of a hero is everywhere, from modern literature and movies to ancient mythology, spanning thousands of years and appearing in some form in every culture. But what exactly is a hero? Why are heroes so prevalent, and what would happen to a society without them?
Because heroes appear in different forms in nearly every society, there is no universal description of a “hero”. Heroes can be real people or fictitious characters. Though they traditionally act unselfishly for the greater good, heroes can also act primarily out of self-interest, and if the end result benefits society, a hero’s misdeeds are very frequently overlooked. While some heroes are violent, resorting to killing, others are more peaceful and inclined to rely on their intelligence when faced with a challenge. One society’s hero may even be another society’s worst enemy, as in the case of present-day terrorists. To extremist groups, suicide bombers are held up as models of courage and devotion to a cause, while to others, they are perceived as a source of evil. A hero, therefore, can only be defined in broad terms, as a person who faces a challenge of some sort (either a physical fight or an internal conflict) and triumphs, upholding his or her society’s ideals and serving as a role model to others. Heroes generally have some special trait that sets them apart from the rest of society—perhaps this trait is outstanding courage, great intellectual prowess, superhuman strength, or some sort of supernatural power. Yet heroes should not be too distant from the society that esteems them, or they lose their grip on the common man—the hero should be someone to whom everyone within that society can relate at least a little bit, and someone who everyone wishes to emulate.
The flexibility of the definition of a hero means that heroes will always be relevant; a society never outgrows its concept of a hero; rather, it is continually adapting that concept to fit contemporary problems. For this reason, today’s heroes and superheroes battle aliens, terrorists, and drug lords rather than an oppressive social system or the wrath of the gods.
In many cultures, the most prominent heroes are men, yet this does not mean that women are not or cannot be heroes. Because heroes are very much the creations of the societies that look up to them, they are direct reflections of the beliefs of their society, mirroring universally respected ideals rather than striking controversy. In the past, and even to some extent in the present, society is male-dominated. Families, governments, schools, and armies were (and still are) often run by men, while women who tried to pursue an unconventional lifestyle, rather than keeping house and raising children, were scorned by society. These circumstances made it nearly impossible for societies to recognize women as heroes or even strong characters, but as society has begun to show women the respect they are due, female heroes are gradually becoming more common in literature, movies, and all other forms of media.
Over thousands of years, the conflicts that heroes face and the manner in which they overcome them have changed significantly, yet the basic concept of the hero has remained. This is due to a deeply-rooted desire in human beings to have before them an example of strength and courage. The hero fills this need and also provides a sense of hope—if the hero can overcome adversity, then there is hope for the rest of society. A society without heroes, therefore, is often a society lacking a medium through which it can face adversity. Yet such societies are not doomed. Human beings are still capable of meeting new challenges, even without the outside help of heroes. In this sense, heroes act as society’s safety blankets—they are not necessary, but they provide a greatly desired sense of security, and thus are an almost inseparable part of the human experience.
Because heroes appear in different forms in nearly every society, there is no universal description of a “hero”. Heroes can be real people or fictitious characters. Though they traditionally act unselfishly for the greater good, heroes can also act primarily out of self-interest, and if the end result benefits society, a hero’s misdeeds are very frequently overlooked. While some heroes are violent, resorting to killing, others are more peaceful and inclined to rely on their intelligence when faced with a challenge. One society’s hero may even be another society’s worst enemy, as in the case of present-day terrorists. To extremist groups, suicide bombers are held up as models of courage and devotion to a cause, while to others, they are perceived as a source of evil. A hero, therefore, can only be defined in broad terms, as a person who faces a challenge of some sort (either a physical fight or an internal conflict) and triumphs, upholding his or her society’s ideals and serving as a role model to others. Heroes generally have some special trait that sets them apart from the rest of society—perhaps this trait is outstanding courage, great intellectual prowess, superhuman strength, or some sort of supernatural power. Yet heroes should not be too distant from the society that esteems them, or they lose their grip on the common man—the hero should be someone to whom everyone within that society can relate at least a little bit, and someone who everyone wishes to emulate.
The flexibility of the definition of a hero means that heroes will always be relevant; a society never outgrows its concept of a hero; rather, it is continually adapting that concept to fit contemporary problems. For this reason, today’s heroes and superheroes battle aliens, terrorists, and drug lords rather than an oppressive social system or the wrath of the gods.
In many cultures, the most prominent heroes are men, yet this does not mean that women are not or cannot be heroes. Because heroes are very much the creations of the societies that look up to them, they are direct reflections of the beliefs of their society, mirroring universally respected ideals rather than striking controversy. In the past, and even to some extent in the present, society is male-dominated. Families, governments, schools, and armies were (and still are) often run by men, while women who tried to pursue an unconventional lifestyle, rather than keeping house and raising children, were scorned by society. These circumstances made it nearly impossible for societies to recognize women as heroes or even strong characters, but as society has begun to show women the respect they are due, female heroes are gradually becoming more common in literature, movies, and all other forms of media.
Over thousands of years, the conflicts that heroes face and the manner in which they overcome them have changed significantly, yet the basic concept of the hero has remained. This is due to a deeply-rooted desire in human beings to have before them an example of strength and courage. The hero fills this need and also provides a sense of hope—if the hero can overcome adversity, then there is hope for the rest of society. A society without heroes, therefore, is often a society lacking a medium through which it can face adversity. Yet such societies are not doomed. Human beings are still capable of meeting new challenges, even without the outside help of heroes. In this sense, heroes act as society’s safety blankets—they are not necessary, but they provide a greatly desired sense of security, and thus are an almost inseparable part of the human experience.
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