paikea’s Neighborhood

I often use terms that seem to really bother people: nothingness, chaos, suffering, meaninglessness, despair, etc. Why do these terms, which are so embedded in my philosophy, bother people so much? Well, most people seem to thing that there is something as opposed to nothing: God created everything with a purpose and a meaning. I, on the other hand, think all we have is nothingness and that everything is intrinsically meaningless. Depressing isn't it? I don't see it as depressing, although I definitely understand how people can see my thoughts as depressing. But, I feel that my thoughts are more in tune with reality: God is dead; the universe could care less about us; reality lies in nothingness and is utterly meaningless.

However, like the Existentialists, I don't see this reality as depressing; instead, I see this reality as quite liberating and empowering: Life is what we make out of it, what we make it to be; Change comes from us; We are responsible for how we act and behave; It is our fundamental job as human beings to create meaning; We are the basis for everything, good and bad; We have one life--live it with a dignified purpose. Often, I am asked how I can be happy if I see life, the world, in such a depressing way.

I know I've been quoting a ton from Comte-Sponville's book, but I think he answers this common question in an eloquent and accurate manner.

What can people hope for who have never believed in God or who have ceased believing in him? Nothing--that is, nothing absolute or eternal, nothing beyond the "darkest reaches of death," as Gide put it--which means that all our hopes for this life, no matter how legitimate (less war, less suffering, less injustice) run up against that ultimate nothingness; it engulfs all, joy and misery alike. That makes one more injustice (the fact that death strikes innocent and guilty alike) and one more misery, or several (one for each period of mourning in a person's lifetime). It condemns us to seeing life as tragic--or, if we seek oblivion, as entertainment. Such is the world of Lucretius, the world of Camus and our own world: Nature is blind; our desires insatiable; only death is immortal. This by no means prevents us from struggling for justice, but it does prevent us from believing in it completely or believing that its triumph can be permanent. In a word, Pascal, Kant and Kierkegaard were right: There is no way for a lucid atheist to avoid despair...

Pascal summed it up brilliantly: "So it is that, instead of living, we hope to live," and that, "forever preparing for happiness, it is inevitable we should not know it." I wanted to break away from that "inevitable" by working out something I called a wisdom of despair. In the Western tradition, such a wisdom would be akin to that of the first Epicurians or the Stoics, and, later, to Spinoza; in the Eastern tradition, it would derive from Buddhism or the Samkhya. ("Only the despairing can be happy," says one of the Samkhya Sutras, "for hope is the greatest torture, and despair the greatest joy.") Once again, this is only superficially contradictory. Wise people wish only for what is or for what depends on them. What good would hope do them? As for foolish people, they wish only for what is not (this is what distinguishes hope from love) and for what does not depend on them (this is what distinguishes hope from will). How can they be happy? They never stop hoping. How can they stop fearing?

"There is no hope without fear," wrote Spinoza, "and no fear without hope." We usually think of serenity as the absence of fear, but it is also the absence of hope; thus, it frees the present moment for action, knowledge and joy! This attitude has nothing to do with passivity, laziness or resignation. To wish only for what depends on us (to want) is to give ourselves the means of making it happen. To wish for what does not depend on us (to hope) is to condemn ourselves to powerlessness and resentment. The path is clear enough. The wise act; the foolish hope and tremble. The wise live in the present, wishing only for what is (acceptance, love) or what they can bring about (will). Such, indeed, is the spirit of Stoicism and of Spinoza. Such is the spirit of all wisdom, no matter what the doctrine. It is not hope that spurs us to action (how many people hope for justice but do nothing in its favor?); it is will. It is not hope that sets us free; it is truth. It is not hope that helps us live; it is love.

Thus, despair can be a bracing, healthy, joyous attitude. (Emphasis added.   

The thing about your cat finding your long lost, hand-knitted, wool gloves for you is that he only brings you one and then refuses to reveal the location of the other.

Nah-kev-ho-eyea-zim

According to the Denver Art Museum, it's Cheyenne for "We always return back home again."

Cuz nothing says class like sloppy joes and wine.

High Cuisine

Cuz I'm vain.

Time for Some Reflection

This guy was playing his guitar, and the woman next to him just sat down and started singing along.

Impromptu Duo

Nothing says public art like rusted organ pipes.

Durable Trees