Thursday, May 13, 2010

Thoughts from Junior Year

Introduction
Each blog entry I write, I feel tremendous pressure to do enough research to make sure what I’m saying isn’t nonsense. While this approach bolsters my credibility (at least I hope I’ve sounded credible), it limits what topics I can write about. It also narrows the scope of each entry. So I’ve decided that this time I won’t be as focused or comprehensive as I have in other posts. This entry is a survey of what I’ve been thinking about over this past year. These topics are important to me; they reflect who I am, or at least who I am becoming. And I hope you can gain something from reading it too.

Motivation
This past year has been my most intense period of reflection and research in pursuit of establishing a framework for understanding my existence. Who am I, and what should I be doing? These are the two questions I would like to answer before I die, and in my opinion they are the two most important questions each person must answer for himself or herself. Two rules will guide my pursuit. First, live deliberately. I must constantly reassess my priorities and make sure that how I spend my time properly reflects those priorities. Second, be relentless. I cannot afford to care about the opinions of others or the cost of my inquiry. I must fight laziness, apathy, and complacency. I cannot give up until I determine how to define myself, what to believe, and how to live.

Some of the following issues lie at the heart of my journey to discover who I am and what my purpose is. Other issues are less theoretical but more practical, and therefore offer useful guidance for how to live, regardless of what axiomatic beliefs I settle on. What each of these themes share is their profound influence on me over this past year.

Identity

What defines someone? What distinguishes him or her from other people? What makes that person valuable?


The best I can do is offer a working framework of identity, one based on layers. (And feel free to disagree with this model, but if you do, tell me how you would change it.) On the deepest layer, each person is unique and has inherent dignity and value. This layer is the primitive that grants each individual some intrinsic identity and self-worth by simple virtue of his being a human being. On the second layer rests that person’s capacity to define himself and his willingness to change. This layer gives each person agency over his own identity. The third layer is that person’s values and beliefs. The fourth layer is that person’s actions. Each layer is a reflection of the last. The purpose of including multiple layers is to emphasize that a man is not simply the sum of his actions; to fully understand someone we must examine all the layers and give each its due respect.


Right now, I define myself only as someone capable of change. I am willing to learn, to embrace new ideas, and to apply other people’s lessons to my own life. I’m also determined that I will eventually define myself. But as you probably can tell, I don’t yet know what to believe. I haven’t established the axiomatic values from which all my future actions will stem. I am incomplete, and this incompleteness drives me to discover—or create—the missing pieces.


People define themselves over a lifetime whether they do so consciously or not. If that’s the case, it’s probably better to do so consciously, so that you have no regrets about who you end up becoming.


Practical Epistemology
If you’ve read my last post, you’ll better understand what I wish to convey in this section. Essentially what I’ve concluded is that no amount of academic inquiry—at least given our limited knowledge—can settle the most important questions. Are there really ways we should or should not be acting? Can faith be rationally justified? Is the universe deterministic? Do we have free will? While a good understanding of what other people have to say on these topics is essential to deciding what to believe, other people cannot answer these questions for you. There just isn’t enough information. So what do we do?

We choose. We pick sides. How we decide which side to choose is another question (one that I’m working on). But it’s clear to me that for these important issues, I simply have to stake out a position.

Some issues I plan to contemplate regarding choosing sides:

  • When should I be atheist or agnostic about a proposition? If there is no evidence for something, should I not believe it, or should I admit that I don’t know?
  • If I decide to remain agnostic about something, when is it necessary to choose a position?
  • How do I go about deciding how to choose sides?
  • Am I willing to accept that life is devoid of value and meaning?
  • Will my inability to accept this sort of life be enough to move me to action and self-sacrifice?
Faith
This section is a subset of “Practical Epistemology,” but one important enough to warrant its own treatment. I won’t go into any objective analysis of faith, but instead I want to share my understanding of faith and its role in my life.

Faith is one potential answer to everything I’m looking for. Faith in God can give me answers to who I am and what my purpose is. And I think faith is binary: either you have some faith, or you have none, because some is all you need. Willingness to take even the smallest leap is the axiom upon which all other beliefs can rest. The only question is whether I’m willing to take that small leap. I’d love nothing more than to have faith. But that is easier said than done.

Do I believe in God? I don’t know. I’d like to believe, but I don’t know if I really do. Isn’t it weird how much I don’t know myself? This paradox forces me to ask what the nature of faith is. Is it a blind leap? Is it an irrational conviction given as a gift by God? Can faith be an act of the will? I’ve asked many believers about the nature of faith, yet they can explain surprisingly little about what faith is or where it comes from. I guess I have to keep searching.

Another thing I’ve asked myself is why God would deliberately withhold faith from me. I believe I have been earnestly seeking God, and from everything I’ve heard, God answers the door for those who knock. So I am left with three possibilities: the first is that I am not looking hard enough, in which case I should do more to be a better Christian and further seek God. (Should it really be this hard?) The second possibility is that God has a reason for withholding faith. Perhaps He wants me to experience living without faith so that when I return, I will fully appreciate his presence in my life. The third possibility is that God does not exist. I think disbelief in God is the most rational course of action given the evidence and arguments we have. But the fact that I’m willing to say, “Fuck the evidence,” and turn to God (if only he would grant me the opportunity!) makes it even more frustrating that I still have not felt his presence.

I’ve talked to a decent number of people about this problem. The more I think about it, the fewer people I think can help me. But I won’t give up, and I’d be very grateful to hear your advice and be in your prayers.

Compassion

Everything I’ve said until now has been a little depressing. Something positive I have learned, perhaps the most important lesson of my year, is the importance of compassion. Specifically:

  • The best way to live life (if there is one) is to care about something other than yourself.
  • The best way to achieve happiness is to care about something other than yourself.

If these two things are true, how could there be any other key to living life? Near the end of my last post, I mentioned the possibility of two roads converging: different beliefs might lead to the same lifestyle. I truly think that whatever one’s beliefs are, caring about others more than oneself is the best way to exercise those beliefs. The most rational course of action for the hedonist is to lose himself in compassion. The same is true for the Christian. This has been one of my most important realizations.


If you need some convincing, check out these TED videos:


One last thought: a guiding question I ask when pondering how to live is, “On my deathbed, would I be content with how I lived, to the extent that I could accept death gracefully?” One day over spring break, I realized that the only way I could knowingly end my earthly existence in peace was if what I cared about wasn’t my own life. What’s truly important is the relationship I have with others—the genuine investment in their well-being—in other words, love. I think love is the recognition that I alone am not worth dedicating an entire lifetime to.


Personal judgment

A few years ago I read Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis. In one of the chapters, Lewis mentions that God wants all of us to be perfect. Any reasonable person knows this is an unreasonable goal. But why shouldn’t we all strive for perfection, even if true perfection is unobtainable?


Let’s approach this from a different angle: why is it ever the case that we sometimes do things we shouldn’t be doing, or aren’t doing the things we should? Frankly it’s intolerable that for any person there exists a discrepancy between what he is doing and what he should be doing.


There are two approaches to resolving this. The first is to discipline oneself to do what needs to be done. The second is to reevaluate what one should be doing and to discard unproductive or unreasonable expectations. Both are needed, but the second is often neglected—and that’s the point of this section.


What defines what someone should be doing? Throughout the school year, upon returning to my room with no clear agenda, I'd ask, “What should I be doing right now?” The inevitable answer would be “work.” So I would either study (grudgingly) or procrastinate (guiltily). Both sucked. I realized that the only person telling me what I should be doing at any given moment was myself. There weren’t any ethical implications of my doing work now as opposed to later, so really, there was no right answer. In fact the question would be better framed as "What do I want to do?" rather than "What should I do?" With this mindset, I didn't have to feel guilty for not doing work when I didn't want to. Moreover I still got everything done—just on a more comfortable schedule.


Recognizing when not to judge myself has been a big lesson of this year. Being responsible for myself means that I alone get to decide what's best for me, even when that goes against ingrained habits. As a result I am not only happier but also less dissatisfied with myself. In short, redefining what I should be doing has helped me reconcile who I am with who I want to be.


Success

I know little of true success, but I have a feeling that 100% of how my future unfolds will be a consequence of my own attitude: my confidence and my persistence. I recently asked my sister if she thought she'd make a good teacher (her prospective career). She responded with an assertive “yes.” I needed only that confidence to be convinced. And I believe this is true for everyone, so here is my advice (and if you decide to believe anything I say, let it be this): Have unshaking, even irrational faith in yourself. Live deliberately. And live relentlessly. You will own the fuck out of life.