A Happy Irony

A few days ago, I said to myself that I am giving up on philosophy and most definitely writing.  The happy irony of that seemingly self-destructive thought was that I immediately wanted to write about how I’m going to give up writing.

It is difficult to recognize despair, let alone write about it.  You want to hide.  Hide from the world, and most certainly from yourself.  You do not want to become a burden for someone else. 

With despair comes the possibility of losing faith (if you ever had any to begin with).  Losing faith does not necessarily imply a faith in the Creator.  It may begin that way, or it may end in such a way.

A not-so-happy irony is that despair means that in order to escape the burden of Being (which is the goal of the one who despairs) and by yielding to despair, we precisely give in to the very burden of Being we are attempting to vanquish.  And then, we are caught in the game designed by “forces of evil,” if I may be so bold, “mystical,” and non-rationalistic.

Why is it much easier to believe the carrier of despair than the carrier of joy?  We may not have a complete answer to that question but partial answer lies in this: making a choice to not despair is more than anything an intuitive act.

It has been said that our intuitions are for the most part correct in the assessment of our existential state.  The intuitions are something we are equipped with, something which is inherently human and they relate to moral choices as well.  A “voice,” an engraved conscience is part of our psycho-somatic-spiritual set up.

When we choose despair, we may not necessarily look for it unless we have deeply masochistic tendencies.  But saying no to despair is an intuitive act.  Despair leads to spiritual death and being spiritual means being moral.  And so, in many ways, the intuitive act of rejecting despair is also a moral act of rejecting despair because either choice affects the community.

There is a great danger in participating in the inward movement, a retreat into the Self because the further we do such a thing, we separate ourselves from the Other.  At the heart of the meaning of human existence is relationality to other beings (even inanimate objects).  We truly underestimate the significance of the tactile and material nature of the external world.  The contact with the “known” is a first step in establishing a connection with the Other.

It is said that the only philosophical question that truly matters is “to be or not to be.”  Although it should be asked, it cannot stop there.  It must continue, develop, flourish and open up a “metaphysical responsibility.”  Philosophy becomes not merely a consolation for the despairing soul, or an act of contemplation, but also an act itself toward the Other. 

I may be traveling on a curvy, uneven path of the dark highway but it is a highway of happy irony.  The greatest illusion in life is that life is an illusion.