My philosophy of life often depends on my mood. However, I’ll try to cover the gambit of areas I venture into in this essay and hopefully my point will come across. That point being that I really have no point. In fact, the most optimistic verdict I can reach is that philosophy does not matter at all. One should just live their life not concerned with why’s, how’s, or what if’s. And that, in and of itself, is a philosophy. So, for lack of a better term, I’ve decided to call my philosophy “paradoxism.” With so many conflicts simultaneously occurring, many of them both true and yet seeming to erase the other, it seems as appropriate as anything.
The unfortunate foundation of my acts and way of looking at existence is a nifty little philosophy I thought up called “determinism.” Of course, given the way reality works and the natural manner of mankind, it had been thought up an untold number of times before my poor, tortured, adolescent mind had a “breakthrough.” Still, I thought of it on my own, and that is probably the reason I actually understand it. It’s extremely difficult to wrap one’s mind around on first glance, especially if you’re unwilling to believe it. To sum it up, determinism basically states that you are the culmination of genetics and all your experiences. That is the makeup of your consciousness. Looking past the self, the entire fabric of reality is interwoven, every tiny detail entwined with every other. In a sense it is quite similar to Transcendentalism. All life, indeed all of existence is connected. However, I don’t believe in some all encompassing Over-soul. No, the complex but set nature of reality merely serves to provide a mindset for the primary tenet of determinism: that free will does not exist. Like Puritan predestination, it essentially says that you have no control over your actions. The one difference between the two is that Puritanism requires a God and determinism does not. Every action of every second of time is the direct result of the second before it. Since the past cannot be altered, neither can the future. By the same logic that 2+2=4 every single time, an infinite number of realities with the same beginning will all have the exact same conclusion. The equation of reality, as unfortunate as it is to reduce existence to such base and unromantic terms, is just an equation, and after the variables (such as genetics, experiences, temperature, air pressure, the price of tea in China, etc.) have been filled out, you will always obtain the same result.
And this is the foundation of my philosophy. Not because I particularly enjoy it, but because I can conceive no alternative to it. There is no way, in my mind, that free will can exist. I cannot comprehend it. The absence of free will creates a very strange and very dangerous mindset. One could believe that every action they take is ultimately, when boiled down to essentials, not their fault, thus leaving them free to do and act any way they please. Fortunately, it is so difficult to comprehend that very few follow it, so the risk is minimal.
But determinism is also like a drug. When one makes a mistake or has a regret or commits an error, you use it for comfort. Determinism professes that it really isn’t your fault; it was meant to be. And indeed, I have used that line of reasoning. After so many times, just like any other drug, it takes its’ toll. I began to realize that existence really had no point. If everything is already mapped out, why try to accomplish or strive to succeed? What could the point of anything be? Why bother? This rather nihilist mindset is one I generally characterize as Percy Bysshe Shelley’s “Ozymandius.” A sense of meaninglessness and fatality of all accomplishment and pursuit of any goal pervades determinism. Of course, that may be an incomplete interpretation, but the fact remains that determinism lends itself to fatality.
However this is in direct conflict of my tenets of morality. I suppose I share the nihilist’s view that morality is purely subjective. I take a fairly staunch anti-conformity (but not necessarily non-conformity) and anti-materialistic view on life, but whether that is because I truly believe them or I’m too lazy to want to deal with them, I’d rather not know. But for one who believes what I believe, I conform quite a bit to society’s definition of morality. I abhor dishonesty and deception. My basic instinct is to deny myself. I dislike the “carnal pleasures.” I take no pleasure from the pain of others. I don’t even curse. I dislike human contact, prevent myself from fulfilling love, and I generally don’t interfere with the rights of others. Thus I have a fairly Puritan mindset in this respect as well. My morality and denial of free will, in most respects, fall under Puritanism. The only exception is my belief in God.
This innately instilled morality, for whatever reason I possess it (probably a combination of my rearing, pride, and sense of instilled “decency”), lends itself towards a romantic view of life. To have morals, you have to respect life, yourself, reality, or something to merit restricting your actions or have a firm fear or respect for God. I was sorely lacking in the latter, so I developed an aspect of the former. Thus another side of my perpetual conflict was spawned, Romanticism. I generally characterize it as Edgar Allan Poe’s “Annabel Lee” because of the emphasis on life, love, and becoming so completely immersed in existence as to give it the utmost importance. This part of me fully embraces life, reveling in its’ triumphs and writhing in its’ defeats.
So again I am divided. This passionate, unhindered side of my psyche conflicts with the restrained and restricted Puritanical side as well as the nihilistic, fatalistic, determinist side. I assume conflicts of this nature are natural and probably the norm for most people. However, each provides a different take on what life is. It creates sort of an “Awakening” effect, when put together. When these three forces fully emerged, I began to feel trapped, as if every single route was futile and hopeless. No matter where I turned, one side of the conflict or another would retain enough of a restricting force to prevent me from achieving happiness or fulfillment. There was no right answer, but there were an infinite number of wrong answers. Just as Edna came to this conclusion of repression and fatalist inevitability of unhappiness, I did too, and I almost followed her course of action as well. Either way I turned concluded in death. Nihilist fatalism was pointless; one may as well end their life as soon as it is realized in the hope that something better and fantastic would emerge in the possible life after. Romanticism was too much, because putting so much emphasis on life naturally makes every defeat like a horrible deathblow. The stress becomes entirely too much to bear, making suicide again the only option. And Puritanism without God is just punishment for no reason. What is the point of restricting oneself if you are never rewarded for it?
So it would seem these three drastically conflicting philosophies all arrive at the same conclusion. In fact, determinism supports the notion because all the responsibility and guilt associated with death is gone. It was “meant to be.” Anyone who mourns it would be wasting their time, it’s a natural process and cannot be helped. So all signs pointed in one direction. But due to outside intervention, it was not to be fulfilled. Determinism said that it really didn’t matter anyway, so I may as well live. I would die eventually. And there I was.
That wasn’t enough, though. These conflicts cannot simply vanish. The reasons and rationale still existed. So I devised a better way of looking at life, a sort of compromise. Thinking in terms of the Big Bang theory (minus string theory), I think it is in my best interests to believe that existence is not linear, but a cycle. Indeed, probability would seem to dictate that we are not heading towards a final conclusion, but rather right back to where we “started”, so to speak. Time is a circle, not a straight line. Thus, it’s a good idea to make the best out of life because you’re going to have to continually do it over and over again. It certainly solves the problem of creation and an eventual ending. There is no beginning or ending to a circle, it simply “is.” Of course, there is the question of how did the circle become created, but by that time it becomes so complex it is surely out of the range of human comprehension and is irrelevant. And thus we have come full circle, so to speak, back to the conclusion of irrelevancy.
Yes, in order to continue on with existence in a somewhat acceptable frame of mind, I have to treat the entire business of philosophy as irrelevant. Whether or not these ideas or viewpoints are true (and for determinism, I see no way it could be false) does not matter. We should just live life and don’t worry about them. To entertain myself and occasionally boost my spirits, I sometimes put a sort of comical “God” figure into the mix as a sort of reality TV executive, minus the TV. I am merely a source of entertainment for God and God’s divine brethren. And judging by the presence of pain, suffering, and sorrow, it is probably his mission to make me unhappy. So I try to be happy just to spite him. Does it work? Maybe a little. Does rejecting all my conflicting philosophies help me function as a potentially happy, good individual? Hardly. I can’t even really reject them. They all rear their ugly heads in one way or another. Repressed, yes, but their influence is still felt. I still restrict my actions and behavior due to innate Puritan attitudes. In turn, stopping myself from hating and loving violates Romanticism, which then retaliates by throwing me into a typical teenage depression, but because it is Romantic, it has to be utter and miserable. Superficiality is not a luxury available to me in that respect. Then I turn to nihilist determinism to tell me none of existence really matters. But that is in some respects even more depressing and terrible. So I then profess only philosophy is irrelevant, and I go on living life to the best, and happiest, of my abilities. Then, when I prevent myself from taking risks, living, and loving, I look for the source and see Protestantism…
Thus I dance around the four in what appears a continual cycle. It results in a perpetual Civil War of my mind: so much is in common between the combatants, but some of the differences are simply too radical to coexist. Unlike the Civil War, though, if one side wins, the nation loses. There can be no permanent division, no sole triumph of one force. It’s the war or nothing at all. So the cycle continues.
Perhaps “cyclical paradoxism” would be a more apt term. Of course, it could simply be the confusion of a teenager. I could find another, better way of looking at life as I age and mature. But unless determinism is disproved, a significant improbability, the root of the problem remains. That new philosophy might just be added to the dysfunctional family of my mind, much like “Long Day’s Journey Into Night” with the same emotional ups, downs, and escapes. And the same helpless futility pervades. I place the Puritanical restrictions upon myself for no real reason. I stop myself from love. I am unable ignore philosophies that don’t matter. The only way I can hope to get through this is to aim for a goal, in my case teaching Math (a wonderful subject that poses no important uncertainties or questions that should not and cannot be answered), and revel in it. I just have to survive the years until I get there.
I often look at this strange war/dance and see how truly ridiculous it is. I move towards the irrelevancy of philosophy because there is no need to be miserable. There is no need for me to fool with all this nonsense. I should rise above it and move on. And I do. But then I lose sight of the entire jumble and one part or another creeps back into my consciousness from my subconscious and the entire cycle “starts” again.
First everything matters, then nothing matters, and finally only portions of that matter. Compromise is the only method of survival on a battleground where no peace can be accorded. Restrictions abound on a backdrop of irrelevancy and passion that makes those restrictions destructive and futile. My only recourse is to escape into reality. Yes, I think “paradoxism” fits just fine.
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