Slow Down and Open Your Eyes
“The two most powerful warriors are patience and time” — Leo Tolstoy
I’ve long been torn apart by the idea of having to constantly pursue more. Daily, I encounter quotes of success and ideas that we must be productive to be considered successful in life. Yet what Florence King reminds me, in her book titled, ‘Take my Advice’ is the significance of taking time off from chasing success. Take a year off, do nothing but live. Yet I’m deeply conflicted with an existential angst about the shortness of life and the importance of living it fully. Which is heightened by the recognition that it could go tomorrow. I’m struggling to come to terms with this direct conflict and am at a loss as to how to proceed.
As a result of exploring philosophy, I tend to find a greater portion of my internal bandwidth is applied to more abstract considerations and challenging pre-existing ideal. It’s taken me through many doors, which fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how I look at it, I cannot shut. I believe it’s increased the breadth and depth of my current understanding of myself, the world, human beings, and the human condition. Someone close to me recently said to me to be careful not to become too isolated in my thoughts. I’m certainly not out of sight of the well-trodden path, but my eyes have widen and I’ve begun ever so tentatively stepping off the pavement to the less visited path that lay beside it.
“Be weird. Your strangeness is magic” Parker Lewis.
Socrates, who used to walk about the local town in Athens, challenged people on their views of life and strongly encouraged them to argue their position on particular ideals through personal inquiry. Local townspeople: traders, shop owners or military officials, maybe be confronted by questions questions posed by Socrates such as, “What is justice?” or, “What is knowledge?”. Inspired by the Greek Philosopher, I’ve found I to have become accustom to asking people similar questions for two reasons. One, I don’t know the answer and hope to piece one together over time. And, two, to snap people from their daze and consider such a question. I have found through such conversations, how deeply wise and intuitive some people are, but at the same time, how consumed and distracted from life others are. It scares me to acknowledge that the group of humans who seem to have their eyes open, even partially, are short is number. Consequently, small-talk has grown sour in flavour.
One of the core pillars of Nietzsche’s views was the idea of the ‘Herd Mentality’. The premise that we are more comfortable to be one of the herd and follow the crowd. It’s safe. It’s familiar. To venture away from the pack is not only deeply frightening it also requires great courage to overcome it. Early signs of your said venture often causes large swaths of sheep to stare at your foolishness. It was Nietzsche who said,
“No herdsman, and one herd! Everyone wants the same; everyone is equal: whoever thinks otherwise goes voluntarily into the madhouse.”
Compared to the frantic, impatient and scared views held in my late teens — early twenties, I have found solace in deep thoughts. Whilst I have overcome some fears, they have been replaced by others. There are three things which scare me: death, wasting life and social humiliation. I’m tempted to believe that the fear of death consumes the fear of wasting time. As why do we fear wasting time if not for the fear of reaching the end of our time. But the fear of social humiliation is another beast and for reason. Primitively, the social connection with our tribe made the difference between death and survival. Our ancestors survived, thus the desire for social connection was past down as a vital survival mechanism. But we don’t live in that world anymore and so why should this fear take such a strong hold of us? Social humiliation is what stops us from starting a business, leaving a job and turning a passion into employment or asking someone out on a date. I believe we must make a constant, conscious effort to overcome this sometimes irrational experience. I like what Bertrand Russell teaches us about the ideal,
“One should respect public opinion insofar as is necessary to avoid starvation and keep out of prison, but anything that goes beyond this is voluntary submission to an unnecessary tyranny.”
Fortunately, through lessons found in literature recorded over time, comfort can be found.
What I feel philosophy does for me is hold my hand and guide me through the process of acceptance. As I’ve grown older, noticing how little I know, I wonder how long it might take to learn to accept certain views. For example, learning to die before you die, as Eckhart Tolle recommends we do. Yet, Nietzsche encourages me to “become who I am”. To follow my own path, to shun the opinions and concerns of others. He cements that the most fulfilling act in life to become your true self. And strongly echoes the risk of this journey and how deep and hallowing it can be. Yet, confirms the importance of this journey for any person, that regardless of the risk, when weighed against a lost life — one which is lost to the crowd — it must be taken.
How much do I really fear social humiliation or disconnection?
How far from the herd am I willing to go?
How patient can I remain?
This last question is one which causes me plenty of anguish. My ambition directly conflicts with my level of patience — maybe that’s youth. To achieve any worthwhile contribution, I know one must not become overwhelmed by the grandiose nature of one’s aspiration, but rather stay consistent on delivering the small, important tasks which form the backbone of any desire. The lesson is there, plain as day. Does this quell my naive vision of ‘Big things’? Hardly. Does it strengthen my resolve? Fractionally.
To slow down and stop worrying/preparing/striving for the future, especially when our society and more intimately the human condition seems predicated on achieving productivity and “success” — it’s tough to do.
I don’t know what the solution is.
Maybe it’s mindfulness. Maybe it’s not.
Maybe it’s art, poetry and literature. Maybe it’s not.
Maybe it’s pursuing a passion or regular personal inquiry. Maybe it’s not.
Maybe I’ll never know.
Maybe nobody knows.
