I encountered a world
of fruitless pursuits
and destructive ideas
So I let my hair down
Played a tune
And returned to the abyss.
-Journey to Mt. Moriah
http://www.journeytomtmori
All these problems we have. All the horrors we face. Conflict of wills. A construction of our own. The so-called inevitability of a people with conflicting interests. War. Desperation.
When people speak of 'One Love' in idealistic tongues they speak of something they see; a vision, lingering on the edge of perception like the fading remnant of a dream. Like the dreamer, they feel a special kind of regret as it seems to elude their grasp.
It's plain to see that the soldiers on one side of a war have few differences from those on the other. That heroes fight valiantly on both sides, defending what they love from what seems an inevitable monster. (The opposing nation) Anyone who takes the time can plainly see the fallacy of such conflict--an attempt to resolve ethereal matters that seem important. Sometimes it's more concrete--defense against invasion, perhaps--but it always seems to ring the same. Men on either side of a warped glass, their images twisted into monstrosities as a product of necessity.
Wars are the most terrible among many conflicts human beings involve themselves in, from the petty to the vicious. A person rarely assumes responsibility for being in one; typically, the other party or some inevitable process is to blame.
The pressing question is precisely how a conflict of wills, be it between individuals or populations, comes into being. How it works. How it thinks. The rules upon which they function. The common threads that exist in the way they live and die.
I think people are beautiful creatures, without exception. I've been inspired to scrutinize those parts of humanity which I find repulsive. So too I've been inspired to be honest with myself and uncover all the fallacies I cling to--biases, self-delusions and the like--and I've uncovered quite a lot. I'm far from finished.
As I clear away these voluntary cobwebs and look upon these objects of vile mystery, I'm repeatedly surprised. I haven't found the monsters I expected to among mankind. I haven't found fools, either. Everywhere I look I see the members of a rational and kind-hearted race. This in authoritarians, suburbanite consumerists, militant atheists, evangelists, and all the other groups I disapprove of. This even apparent in history's 'villains' and 'evil empires'--a struggle to hide the virtue that is there. The greatest among the horrors they commit are not forged in malice, but love. At worst, their perspective is skewed; they are mistaken as to either what they want, or how to go about getting it.
I suggest that human beings should act singularly in their own interest, but not before dedicating a considerable amount of time and thought to ascertaining what that interest is.
I suggest that a world of love must be forged in honest selfishness rather than false altruism.
I suggest that the motivations of this animal called 'Man' are, indeed, not so animal as we fear. That the 'reptilian' system underlying our conscious psyche is a noble beast.
In America, earning power is the prime measurement of a person's success. It is the mark of a happy man; one who is 'doing something with his life' and 'going places'. I can attest to the indoctrination of this idea into our youth; as a member, I saw it preached in schools, homes and in the media. It’s a wondrous example of how we as humans deviate from what we want; our base motivations are replaced at an explicit level with careers, fame and wealth. What objective do these goals serve? The rich are no happier than the rest; they have their frustrations. The poor man's problems are not shared by the rich man, but the rich man has new ones that require even more time, effort and frustration to solve.
What’s important is to evaluate one’s own motivations before drawing paths to their satisfaction. What is this thing called ‘happiness’ and is it in fact a suitable goal? What gives us this ‘happiness’ or otherwise serves as a strong motivation?
I won’t speak for humanity, but I make, as always, the assumption that they function more or less as I do. That said, I explored—am exploring—what makes me tick. Happiness, as I define it, is a fleeting feeling and a rare visitor. A thing like sunshine which visits once in a blue moon and sustains itself for a time before vanishing. Similar are the creatures called Sadness and Anger. Really having these feelings at anything beyond a petty level is uncommon. And it seems to me utterly ridiculous to imagine that a person would aspire to trap this thing and have it indefinitely.
We’re fickle creatures, rarely satisfied with what we've gathered. I’ve looked down the conventional road with the glances I’ve gotten at different people seated at different points upon it. They get an education, get a career, work diligently, and make friends. Their pleasures are mild, and their frustrations common as they push their way forward in pursuit of prosperity. This effort seems unhealthy; it buys them luxuries (which do nothing to satisfy them) and is the subject of endless attempts to justify it. A comfortable living for the children. An inheritance to pass on. Contrived reasons for a lifestyle which, while not devoid of meaning or passion, is unrewarding and seems to breed regret. A lifestyle which comfortably transitions us from one frustration to another in the pursuit of happiness—a creature which is as elusive to us in the winter of life as any other time. Before my eyes, the American Dream turned to ash.
What of hedonism? Physical pleasure? Sex, food and fine wine? Bizarre as it is, I performed the simplest of experiments. While having a particularly good dinner and savoring it, I searched myself for the feeling I call ‘happiness’ and found it absent. A motivation was present and being satisfied, but I was not satisfied. I've asked friends whether good food makes one happy and they seemed to think so. But again and again I find the satisfaction in pleasure to be empty. As a matter of survival, the body’s imperatives are ever-present and have their suggestions. But our minds are strong, and we can (if willing to commit) be stronger than pain or craving. Realizing this, the fruits of wealth and 'comfortable living' began to lose their appeal.
I began to investigate what sorts of things motivated me beyond physical drives. There are social drives, and those of the mind. Social imperatives attract us to acceptance, regard and love. Mental ones compel us to find new ideas (curiosity) make new ideas (creativity) and achieve both at once by interacting with an intelligent partner (reciprocity). I came rather quickly to hold the mental pleasures as quite proper and noble, and dwelt for a time on the social ones.
(Biased though it may be, I was influenced by the altruistic ideals I try to expel from myself. And still am. I seek a vision of man’s motivations that supports my theory of virtue as the inevitable product of selfish action. I see this too, and try to temper it.)
Regard I came to see as a motivation which did terrible things—people destroy themselves chasing fame, and destroy others chasing power or respect. The regard of others, as I had learned firsthand, is unsatisfying once achieved and a larger goal always overshadows the first. I had, once, fought my way to the elite class among a group. Rather than enjoying this success, I first defended my position jealously, then abandoned it in pursuit of bigger things. Reflecting on this experience, fame and respect seemed as though they too would be unsatisfying—a life as a pariah could well be a valid one.
Love was and is an intriguing mystery which I fear I can’t describe or explain appropriately. I hold it to be self-evident that when applied directly it is a benevolent force between human beings. Again looking to my kin among humanity, I saw a reserved people, all too reluctant in their distrustful world to open themselves to others. And given my last revelation—the fallacy in pursuing regard—I grew infatuated with an idea.
Without pride, we are without shame. Imagine a human being which is not a subject to those insecurities that fetter us so. Imagine how freeing it would be to live without secrets. To be, to an incredible degree, utterly honest and straightforward about every thought in one’s head. To remove that porcelain mask and reveal the flawed human behind it—ten thousand times more beautiful when rendered imperfect and passionate.
No doubt being without shame would be harmful to the pursuit of wealth, comfort and respect. Ah, yes. Those aren’t so great anyway. I’m trying to bring forth from myself a such a fearless creature as I’ve imagined. To cut away the delusions and insecurities which have acted as a nest for my mind, fostering a child of society. As I tear at this nest, I hope to become instead a child of humanity. And as I do so—as my eyes seem to grow ever clearer—I come into possession of something I’ve never had before.
I have developed faith. In humanity. For all the vile things we’ve done we are powered by the same beating heart. Complex and varied systems operating on the same basic principles. Creatures of thought and emotion that are most intrinsically noble.
I have come to see patterns in all the worst things human beings do. Decisions made in groups serving collective interest, ruthlessly. Fostered insecurities driving us to make decisions which, while we don’t like them, seem inevitable. Consensus on the existence of ‘evil’ rather than confrontation of the mechanisms behind it. Refusal to see ourselves reflected in the eyes of murderers and tyrants. A continuing notion that we are without responsibility. A distrust for our fellow man.
I see these patterns in myself. I know I do not embody the ideals I speak of, and know they will change before all is said and done. But I have an inkling. Like the fading remnant of a dream, I have a half-formed vision. Of a great change in thinking.
Imagine now not one but a world of people willing to express dissent from the group. A world of people willing to discuss their ideas and those thoughts that might otherwise be guarded. A world of people who are without shame and do not wear masks of porcelain. Impossible, perhaps.
Failing this, imagine a world where, at the very least, we’ve dropped the idea that we can force a person to be virtuous against their will. Where words like ‘evil’ and ‘fooishl’ are dwelt upon, long and hard, before their use. Imagine that we’ve ceased to acknowledge such things and begun to examine the reasons and motivations behind those monsters at the edge of our vision. That we’re willing to reason with them.
Our world stands in dark times. Authoritarian states put leashes on the monsters that are men to make them positive members of society, by force. Socialist states define the interest of their people for them, knowing what fools their citizens must be. Capitalist corporations do their filthy business in the interest of no one man, predators to smaller creatures in the economy. I’ll respect your right to disagree with my criticisms of any of these—they’re the products of my very finite perspectives on each. But level with me here: we yet have war pitting good man against good man. Horror committed in the name of love. An all-consuming fire which must be understood and stopped that it might never occur again. Perhaps, one might say, it's inevitable, but that need not be a reason to treat it any differently.
The big idea is that human beings are smart, wise and virtuous by their very nature. That these distracting systems we erect serve to direct our positive pursuits in negative directions and pit us against ourselves. That we choose to be caged, hiding away our creativity, curiosity and love in favor of an illusion of stability which is valueless. That the only way to free ourselves is to live with both hands, and the full strength of our hearts and minds. Without fear of strange ideas or different people. That standing alone and upon our own two feet we may and must be part of this world. That unfettered we are beautiful.
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