The inequality of self-introspection

 Arun Kumar

Needpix

What is the meaning of my life? Or taking a broader view, what is the meaning of life? Or on an even broader scale, what is the meaning of everything around me? Or on an even, even, higher level perspective… oh well, before I get carried away, let me just stop there. But you get the drift. It could be a haunting question.

At the personal level, the question we generally ponder is what is the meaning of an infinitesimal moment of light that becomes us between the moment of our birth and death. A brief illumination like a supernova suddenly illuminating the night’s sky and then fading away.

What do I value? What is my purpose? What are my goals? They are some other side kicks that linger around the question of the meaning of life. They are Batman’s Robin.

These are the questions that have haunted us for millenia. They have led to philosophical traditions, helped construct various frameworks to help us live well and  equanimously, and they have been responsible for the origin of different religions.

As far as I can tell, self-introspection is a privilege of us humans, I cannot be sure though. The lovely dog we kept for friends for some time seemed to occasionally ponder over similar questions once in a while. With his eyes half open, lying on the sofa, oftentimes he seemed to be lost in contemplation. 

Although in principle, it is only humans who have the privilege for self-introspection, it is a luxury that only some can afford. A few who are more privileged among an entire class of privileged. Sounds similar to what Napoleon said “All animals are equal, but some are more equal than others.” 

Self-introspection is not all about taking a beach vacation on a tropical island. It can be a discombobulating experience. It often is. The need for self-introspection is some feeling of dissonance within that something is just not right. The feeling starts with the sense of losing balance, harmony, and connectedness. A feeling that is sometimes vague, while other times, demands full attention.

As I self-introspect and say to myself, why me,  a stranger who toils all day to  have something meager to eat at the end of the day, is watching  at my self-proclaimed misfortune of suffering from self-introspection, That soul shakes their heads. I know what they are thinking - I will gladly trade places with you?

Self-introspection, my friend, is a luxury of well fed people, the stranger says. It is a luxury of people who have the luxury of discretionary time. It is a luxury for people who, in the middle of winter, can curl up on a sofa with a mug of hot cocoa in their hands.

The privilege of self-introspection, he says, is yet another sign of inequality in our society.

And you know, the stranger has a point. In the world today, what percentage of humanity can afford the privilege of self-introspection? 

One day, perhaps, the Bureau of Labor Statistics will create an index of people who are engaged in self-introspection as the percent of population to define the poverty level. Until then…

Ciao, and please recognize the gift and privilege self-introspection can be.

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Self-Introspection

Self-Introspection

 Arun Kumar

Pixabay

I hope you have not been hit on the head by lightning or a piece of disintegrated meteor. Neither have I. 

Once, I was surprised at an outdoor party in a friend's house being hit on the head by a flying object that came out of nowhere. Its origin happened to be terrestrial; a devious kid throwing projectiles into the gathering at random. I became one of the unlucky targets. 

The surprise of being hit on the head. It is not just the falling objects that are capable of doing that. There are also others that feel the same.

What also  feels like being hit by a falling meteor is the day when a switch inside gets flipped from its off to the on position, and catches us by extreme surprise. The switch is marked as ‘Self-introspection” and although I did not notice before, next to it is a sticker that says “Caution - Handle with care”.

Handle with care, well that is an understatement. There should have been a sign that said “Danger - 10,000 Volts” with pictures of skulls surrounding it.💀 

The times after the switch of self-introspection gets turned on, are discombobulating. Up to that point in time, life was casually strolling down the green meadows humming a song, stopping here and there to smell the roses, or taking a few bites from the juicy peaches and mangoes.

Not anymore. The life after is a life that gets stripped of its innocence. Now the passing moments are hungry for answers.

If you have been lucky, unlucky, blessed, or cursed suddenly to confront the joys or travails of self-introspection, welcome to the club. 

But while we are together on the stage of the self-introspection, and are sharing the limelight (and the glory, if you can call it that), and are facing the same conundrum together, would you be kind enough to share what you think was (were) the triggers(s) that led to such a confounding change? Was it:

• A transition

• A sudden or a gradual change in status quo that led to introspect what next and why?

• Something coming to an end, for example, a long career and the unknown prospects of days after retirement. 

• An emergence of the sense of emptiness whispering that the engagements in the present are not really fulfilling and lack something. And then the question, what now?

• A feeling of emptiness that engagements during the day are merely tedious chores; they do not bring any joy leading to the question: what do I want?

• A sudden realization of our mortality.

• An onset of boredom.

• A feeling of cognitive dissonance.

• A sense of lack of connectedness.

• And of course, getting hit on the head by lightning or a 2x4. Or if you were Buddha, becoming aware of suffering in the world.

I would love to hear from you and learn about the landscape of triggers that result in the sudden gene expression of self-introspection. And honestly, we all have that gene inside that can get switched anytime. All it needs is a stressors to flip the switch.

If you are willing to share your reason, please leave a comment or drop me an email.

So long, and do not feel alone in these moments of darkness and bafflement. I am right behind you sorting through the intricate mazes of self-introspection and through the questions of what are my values, purpose, and goals. And since life is at it, why not throw in the question of what is the meaning of my life too in the mix. Why not? Misery loves company. 

Ciao, and may the force of self-introspection be with you!

Anticipation of endings

Arun Kumar

Pixabay

 

“We are always thinking about the future to have a better past and miss out on the present.” - Unknown

As I write this post, my thoughts drift to the Island of Endings. It is just like when meditating, the mind manages to stay focused on three breaths, and before I know, finds itself in a different space and time. The tricks my monkey mind has up its sleeve!

Endings. They are to have something today that will not be there tomorrow.

Somewhere along the journey that connects today with tomorrow, I pass through a door, and as I do, it closes behind me. Something I was carrying in today gets left behind.

One journey continues, another ends.

It happens all the time and if you think that by now, I know the drill, well, think again. Often, endings still catch me by surprise. When endings happen, a range of emotions could surface. It is hard to tell which one it will be the next time.

The end of a week of vacation in Paris. It is the last evening and there is an ache of leaving something behind. An ache of not quite knowing if this will be the final farewell or someday, I will return again.

The end of a stormy night and there is a sense of relief the next morning. The night after Voldemort is finally done and over with, everyone in Hogwarts sits on the floor and leans their head on the shoulders of whoever is sitting next to them and closes their eyes. Among the ruins of the castle, the morning rays of the sun shimmer through the stained-glass windows and play with the wisps of drifting smoke.

The end of a game of soccer, a country wins the grand finale of the world cup, but another loses. In one, people are joyous and there is a celebration in the streets, while in the other, they feel somber and think, damn it, we were so close.

I can think of many more emotions that are triggered by endings. There is one that stands out and is not even related to endings per se. This particular emotion is triggered by the thought of endings and what is to follow. Or more precisely, what is not going to follow.

The anticipation of endings could also bring the emotion of fear as I visualize myself confronting the emptiness in tomorrow.

A feeling the anticipation generates is a fear of emptiness that will greet me beyond the door that I will pass through. The fear of how I am going to spend the day. The fear that when I climb in the bed at the end of the day, would I say to myself that it was a day well spent? And as I pull the covers and start to drift into sleep, will I look forward to the next day, and perhaps, would love to repeat what was today?

The anticipation of endings triggers a vision that I am closing a door behind and taking a step forward confident that it will meet the ground.  Only at the last moment, I realize that I am standing on the edge of a cliff. I am going to tumble down the precipice.

You know the feeling when you skip a step while climbing down the stairs. The heart skips a beat and there is an emptiness in the pit of the stomach.

I search the web and see if there is a phobia associated with the anticipation of endings. No such luck. I am just going to call it “Finistophobia.”

Finistophobia: noun, finis-to-pho-bia; emotion of fear generated by anticipation of endings often followed by a sense of emptiness. A condition often felt prior to endings. Etymology: From finis in Latin + phobia from ancient Greek. Earliest documented use: 2022.

Back to my imaginary trip to the Island of Endings and how my thoughts drifted to its shores.

I anticipate finishing this post in a couple of days. There are a few more ideas lined up that I can work on. Even with this luxury already in hand, as I anticipate ending this post, the fear that the well of ideas will run dry begins to nag.

Reacting to that fear, what do I do? Instead of working on finishing the post, my attention shifts to the urgent need for collecting and making a list of ideas for posts to write in the future.

I find that I am no longer mindful of the present but thinking about what I am going to do tomorrow, so when tomorrow gets here, there will be something there to welcome me and wanting to be done.

And you can well imagine what happens when that moment comes tomorrow.

Can’t you? Well, I repeat the same.

The fear of emptiness in tomorrow makes me miss out on living in the present.

I am no longer focused on what I am writing now. I am thinking about what I will be writing next. The reaction to anticipating of endings becomes what I generally do – not be mindful. Not being engaged in what I am doing now but thinking about what I will be doing in the next moment.

Did I not read somewhere that mindfulness was not a conducive trait for our ancestors to have? A hominoid lost in the present did not have much of a chance of survival. In the conditions of scarcity, to survive, I am better off if I were to look ahead and bury some nuts before the winter arrives. In modern times, I am better off if I have a few “to do” lists up my sleeve.

In order not to have a feeling of emptiness tomorrow, I become a collector of ideas and want to nestle in the safety of their warmth.

I am beginning to think that what will appease the fear of emptiness is to have a long list of ideas that will last beyond my last breath. If I had that list, I can be writing in peace.

Perhaps, an urge to make a list and preempt the fear of emptiness finds a nudge from the old instinct that my survival depends on planning for tomorrow.

Will it not be wonderful to have a list of ideas that will last forever even though I will not? I have been told over and over to save enough money to last beyond my lifespan so why not have a list of engaging ideas to do the same? To have a happy fourth phase of life, I need to start early on saving money and making a list of ideas to live by. I can even include the unspent ideas in my will and donate it to the Charity of Ideas.

Now if you will excuse me, this post is coming to an end and time for me to calm my fears of endings. I need to pull out my list for future posts and feel safe.

Ciao, and may you be free of finistophobia. May you be free of the fear of endings and the feeling of emptiness tomorrow.

Measures and Yardsticks and the tale of an Elephant and Blind Men

Arun Kumar

pixabay

 

You and I, taking an afternoon walk in the woods. It is an unusually cool day for the month of June, and it feels wonderful to be out on the trail stealing leisurely moments away from life. Inhale a deep breath and everything around seems to hold promises of wonders that are lurking in the shadows to surprise us.

It is a slow afternoon, and nothing is reaching for our attention for the next few hours. A sense of freedom and peace and the moment feels perfect for contemplative bantering. No surprise, we find ourselves engaged in a discussion about how one would measure whether two lives lived differently are equally worthy.

The discussion drifts towards a hypothetical scenario of two individuals. The first one, and we call them X, spends most of their time watching TV or scrolling through various social feeds on the internet.

The curious thing about X is that they are content and at peace with themselves. Moreover, when X calls it a day, they look forward to getting up the next morning and watching the next episodes of the Wheel of Fortune followed by an episode of the Mahabharat.

Then there is Y who is inquisitive, a learner, an individual with a growth mindset. Y spends their time dreaming about the curvature of space and time and how to reduce it to a simple set of equations.

One morning, Y wakes up shouting ‘Eureka, I now know the equation that can explain the curvature of space and time, and in the bargain, can also explain why the apple falls from the tree.’

Y is also content and is at peace and cannot wait to live another day filled with learning and dabbling in the theory that one day will also explain all human emotions – love, hate, smile, tears.

The discussion we are engaged in is whether the lives of X and Y are equally worthy?

At a personal level both X and Y are content and feel at peace. In their own ways, both have reasons to look forward to getting out of the bed the next morning. Both have a spring in the step (even though, affectionately, everyone calls X, who does not use their legs often, a couch potato).

And so, I say to you, a tad bit emphatically, that both X and Y have reached the goals they seek. Both have attained what so many frameworks for having a happy and equanimous life are built from – Stoicism, Buddhism, Taoism. Then there are religions that also promise the same.

And therefore, I argue that the lives of both X and Y are equally worthy. Feeling a bit smug, Quod Erat Demonstrandum (QED), I say.

Not so fast, you reply. Mx. Y is going to leave something behind while Mx. X will be forgotten even before the last eulogy is read. The advances in the knowledge Y made will forever be the building blocks of understanding the universe for eons to come. Clearly, from the perspective of human civilization and our quest to understand the workings of things around us, you argue, the  life of Y is more worthy than that of X.

As we walk along, occasionally stopping to look around and smell the lightness in the air, we start talking about whose perspective is ‘right’. It feels like we are heading towards yet another stalemate that philosophical discussion often becomes.

But then, we get hit on the head by couple of falling apples and realize that…

…we both are right.  

The difference between our positions is the measures and yardsticks each of us is using. As it often happens, within the narrowness of our visions we both are correct. The answers depend on the perspective from which we the world.

It is the old story of an elephant and five blind men again.

Measures and Yardsticks. It is easy to forget that answers depend on them. Sometimes, in our lives, we struggle to find measures and yardsticks to even know which direction we are heading. Without a GPS for the soul, we wander around.

One day we wake up and start to wonder what is the meaning and purpose of our life? Somewhere along the passing hours of a night, our perspectives shift, and the morning sky just does not look the same.

We had also forgotten that Y also taught us that all things are relative. The colors we see depend on our frame of reference.

Measures and Yardsticks. One measure of me is height and the yardstick is a meter. Another measure of me is sharpness of vision and the yardstick is 20/20. Based on each, I could reach two different conclusions about myself.

I am measuring X and Y by the sense of equanimity they have. The yardstick is how much they looks forward to getting out the bed in the morning and the spring in one’s step.

You are measuring X and Y by how productive they are. The yardstick is what they are going to leave behind. The yardstick is the legacy.

It is the inner peace vs. productivity and springiness vs. legacy.

We wonder if we can come up with another measure and a yardstick that will say that life of X was more worthy than that of Y. Think of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Think of the Cold Wars and threats for nuclear winters (and roaches ruling the world), and in some weird way, for a fleeting moment, the life of X may feel like the more worthy.

Our walk is coming to an end. The sun is descending towards the horizon, and it is time to get back home and think about dinner. We take one last glance at the green trees around us and look forward to coming back again and continue our musings on life, its wonders, its pains, and of promises it can hold.

Ciao.

Oh, did I forget to tell you that Y was the child of X? How silly of me not to have mentioned that Y would not have existed without our beloved couch potato, the Mx. X. Does that change the answer in any way?