The wise ones told us
to wash dishes
while washing dishes;
be mindful,
and not let
the mind wander,
for a wandering mind
is a life
half lived.
They also said
that diaphragmatic breathing
is a cure for all
that ails us, and perhaps,
this world too.
They just forgot to mention
one small detail -
when you are hurting within,
mindfulness of breathing
is a thought
that is farthest away
from one’s reach.
A whole lot had to happen -
the Big Bang, the galaxies, the stars
the Milky Way, the Sun, the Earth,
the first drop of rain,
and
the first tear of
heartbreak and pain,
and had to happen
just in the right way
for you to nibble,
playfully,
on my nipples
and send waves of tsunamis
traveling up my limbs.
It always makes me wonder
that over billions of years
how did the universe transpired
to create a moment
sublime as this.
Did it all unfold
just for you
and me?
Trying to define yourself is like trying to bite your own teeth — Alan Watts
One of the fundamental causes for the ailment existential crisis is my capacity for consciousness that also makes me aware of the future. It is in the future that mortality resides, and the recognition that I live for a finite span of time lurks. It is said that if I live in the present moment, and thereby, not being aware of the future, I will be connected to immortality or timelessness. But who can manage to always live in the present? For that matter, what is ‘present’?
Along with the awareness of the future, the recognition of my mortality is validated further by the memories from the past (e.g., memory of loss of friends and family that are no longer with us) that I carry.
Being aware of the future and remembrances of things past are hallmarks of the capacity for consciousness. Indeed, various definitions of consciousness are peppered with the word ‘awareness’. Wikipedia suggests that consciousness, at its simplest, is “awareness of internal and external existence” and may include cognition, experience, feeling, or perception. It goes on to say that “It may be awareness, awareness of awareness, metacognition, or self-awareness…”
Merriam-Webster describes consciousness as “the quality or state of being aware especially of something within oneself.”
What fun I can have splitting hair and continue to ponder on a concise definition for the capacity for consciousness, but whatever it may be, the fact remains that with the awareness of the future it brings, I am also aware that I may no longer be an I in the next moment. Knowing this fact is the cognizance of mortality that fuels and sustains the ailment of existential crisis.
The consciousness and capabilities it provides me with has helped greatly in the evolutionary race for survival and reproduction. It is because of this capability that my species has come to dominate the Earth and has become its self-appointed manager (although humans are not very good at it).
As beneficial as the trait of consciousness may be, it is a double-edged sword — it allows me to be aware of the continuity of time and helps define me and my identity, at the same time letting me know that for me time is also finite.
The capacity for consciousness is no free lunch.
Another trait of consciousness is that it can explore itself. The capacity of consciousness allows me to ask a basic question where consciousness may have emerged from?
Perhaps the self-referential nature of consciousness and its ability to probe itself makes comprehending it an impossible task. The more it probes and learns about itself, deeper questions about itself it comes across.
But for now, let me not chase my own tail and focus on where consciousness may have come from.
There are basically two possible answers to this question. — consciousness is an entity that is independent of the self I am. Alternatively, like other parts of me, it is also a biological construct.
If consciousness is independent of my physical form then even after I perish, the consciousness (presumably in some way influenced by what I have been) will continue on.
If it is a biological construct then both my physical form and my consciousness will cease to exist at some point in time. Among the two, conceptually this option is a much easier answer to construct but is much harder to swallow and the discomfort leads to the ailment of existential crisis. [The former is a more acceptable option but is full of riddles].
The feasibility of the second alternative being possible is not that hard to envision.
In an environment, to be able to survive and reproduce, a biological organism has to have some mechanism to (a) sense its surroundings, (b) interpret the sensory input, and © react to it [what kind of reactions). This necessity of these three functions is the blueprint of nervous system and the brain.
Following evolution as biological organisms became more complicated and started to develop specialized parts, the nervous system and brain had to also evolve more sophisticated capacities to coordinate different specialized parts.
Along the trajectory of developing and achieving more and more sophistication, the nervous system and brain, perhaps by accident (either genetic mutation or because of the environmental pressure to be better than others, at some point may have evolved a nascent capability for memory formation. Giving an advantage in the race of survival and reproduction, the nascent capacity for memory would evolve further to become a trait. Once established, it ultimately matured into a capacity to remember the past, and that by definition, an awareness for the future.
Following this plausible path, here I am living with the capacity of consciousness that wants to explore itself. I have a memory of the past, an awareness for the future. I also have the cognizance of my mortality, and with that, the ailment of existence crisis.
Once in a while I also wonder in what way the capacity for consciousness probing itself helps in any way and how does all this philosophizing matters. Is knowing or not knowing what consciousness is and what its origin would be of any utility.
In those moments of doubts, I am reminded of something I read in a book by Daniel M. Klein (Every Time I Find the Meaning of Life, They Change It: Wisdom of the Great Philosophers on How to Live): “My [philosophical] wonderings certainly never really get me anything or anywhere. But they do happen to make me feel more alive.”
These wonderings certainly do make me feel more alive. They also connect me to a larger universe, make me look beyond the confines of my narrow self. They prove to be soothing balm to calm the ailment of existential crisis. They help provide a meaning and purpose to life that the aware of mortality is constantly trying to marginalize.
Ciao.
Note: Writing ‘capacity for consciousness’ over and over starts to feel tedious. When queried, one of the suggestions from ChatGPT for a verb alternative for ‘capacity for consciousness’ was Consciousize (kon-shuh-sahyz): To become aware or make someone aware. Example: The mindfulness workshop was designed to consciousize participants about their inner thoughts and emotions; I can consciousize; I consciousize, therefore I am.
Not a bad suggestion.
You don’t find oak trees having existential crisis. ‘I feel so rotten about myself. I don’t produce as much acorns as the one next to me — Adyashanti
For some, the cognizance of mortality is a cataclysmic event. Although its precise consequences are unpredictable and could be either positive or negative. They might lead to debilitation, foster spiritual development, or serve as a wellspring for creativity. In one way or another, the event can end up turning one’s life upside down. It disrupts our assumptions, challenges our purpose, and forces us to confront our finite existence.
In the presence of mortality, even seemingly simple acts like reading, learning, and working take on a questioning hue.
The cognizance of mortality is like Dementors — it can slowly drain happiness and vitality.
The cognizance of mortality makes us wonder about the meaning and purpose of life. Balancing mortality and life within us can be challenging, if not insurmountable.
The dysfunctional union of mortality and life is the beginning of the existential crisis and makes us question life’s meaning and purpose. Why are we born with a beginning and an end? What purpose does our finite existence serve on this Earth? If all is going to end in the loss of the self that we cultivate with much effort and diligence, what is the point of the journey and all the effort it entails?
While being born was not our choice, we must carry on despite existential crises. To be able to live with a semblance of sanity, we have to find (and build) a meaning for our existence. While doing that we also need to accept the fact that the meaning we construct may not last forever.
We must acknowledge that circumstances change, and the protective moat of meaning we construct may eventually run dry.
For instance, aging or other factors — social, cognitive, or physical — may necessitate us to retire and make us question our identity. The loss of a loved one may bring questions about existence anew.
Change can also be as subtle as our evolving values; what was meaningful yesterday may lose its impact today.
When change occurs, successfully navigating the transition involves rebuilding our inner moat and finding a new meaning and purpose for life.
Ultimately, a recipe for a peaceful life involves skillfully confronting changes and fortifying our moats against existential crisis.
With all that the cognizance of mortality can gift or curse us with, what brings it on to begin with?
Our awareness of mortality fundamentally stems from our awareness of the future. Our capability to think about the future, in turn, is part of the matrix that our consciousness is.
One hallmark of our consciousness is the ability to perceive the flow of time — to know where we were, where we are, and where we might be tomorrow. It is remembering the past, knowing the present, and thinking about the future.
Consciousness is a double-edged sword. It granted us an advantage in the game of natural selection for survival and reproduction. It also gifted us with knowledge of the future.
It is in the future where mortality lurks, and it is our ability to think about the future that its cognizance emerges from.
I guess consciousness is no free lunch. At least some of us have to pay a price for its gift.
Ciao.
Of interest:
Building a framework for Living — A laminated guide
Paradox of Living
The ailment of existential crisis
Taming Mortality