My Personal Existential Philosophy
THOUGHT EXPERIMENT
BY JACQUELINE MCALEER
I’m not religious, but I’m still hesitant to fully accept the lack of absolute meaning in the world. Logically, it makes the most sense to me, but it’s difficult to reconcile emotionally at times. For example, I always find myself in awe studying the complexities of life in biochemistry and neuroscience, and it’s not intuitive to claim these complexities are merely the result of random interactions of dead particles over a long period of time. There definitely seems to be a purpose to life, and life as a whole, not just life as an individual. However, this hunch is very difficult to find support for, so for the time being, I’ll accept this form of nihilism and work to find smaller, more personal meanings in life. In this essay, I’ll explore the various ways in which I find meaning in my life, drawing from the main philosophers covered in this course.
I enjoyed learning about all the existential perspectives covered in this course, and was able to take away some truth from each of them. It’s hard to pick a favorite, but the philosopher that stood out the most to me was Kierkegaard. Although his philosophy is marked by suffering, absurd faith in the absurd, and difficulty in relationships due to the inability to be understood by others, the benefits of having a life-defining commitment seem to largely outweigh these obstacles. In my life, I’ve encountered very few Kiekegaardian characters, even as portrayed in the media, and yet the few “knights” I do know seem to have achieved a deep purpose and peace in their lives, far greater than that of the average person. Personally, the only Kierkegaardian commitment I could see myself having is one of romantic love. In my view, these types of commitments only work functionally in reciprocal relationships. I wouldn't want my partner to see me as a Kierkegaardian object of purpose unless I held the same sentiment, in case of feeling guilt and doubt that I am deserving of such a lopsided love. Similarly, I wouldn’t want to form a Kiekegaardian commitment to someone that is incapable of receiving it; although it would likely still give me the purpose I’m looking for, it would also be rather depressing. Although rare, it’s possible that this balanced absurdity in love is achievable in my life, and despite the inability to be understood by outsiders, my partnered knight of faith and I would be able to understand each other in a much deeper way than what presents in most relationships.
In the case that I never achieve this reciprocal Kierkegaardian love, or while I’m waiting for it, I have several other philosophies from this class to fall back on. One I find particularly compelling is Nietzschean existentialism. In my friendships, I’ve always been drawn to “free spirited” individuals, the kinds of people who travel all over the country living out of a van and spend their spare time painting in the forest barefoot. I’ve noticed that I often envy these Nietzschean figures for being so sure of themselves in their individual values and aesthetics. So I aimed several of my new year’s resolutions for 2020 at becoming more free-spirited myself: improving my creativity, learning new art forms, allowing myself to be more spontaneous, and pushing myself to challenge common beliefs and question traditional morality. Being in quarantine has actually been quite conducive to many of these goals, as I’ve had much more time to engage with new artistic hobbies and outlets. Although I’m not really “good” at any art form yet, the sense of excitement, authenticity, and peace I feel while creating something is meaningful enough for me. Prioritizing individual health, needs, and values is something that a lot of us steer away from for fear of being seen as selfish, but these things are all very important to me as well. I try to give myself plenty of space to explore art, nature, and the city, sometimes spending entire days just wandering, listening to music, riding random buses, people watching, and dancing in alleys, and these value-creation days have been some of my best. As much as I resonate with Beauvoir’s ideals of liberation and Dostoevksy’s ideals of social connectedness, I am also very independent and introverted, so the emphasis on individualism in Nietzsche is strongly refreshing for me along with the focus on art and value creation.
However, despite how much I like to think I’m self-sufficient, I’ve observed that the times I’ve been at my lowest were also the times that I felt the most isolated from others. So I’m not willing to completely sacrifice the extraction of meaning from others as Nietzsche might endorse. There are elements of both Dostoevsky and Beauvoir that really resonate with me despite my predisposition to find meaning independently.
In Dostoevsky, I find so much that is compatible with my worldview. Finding solace in nature is something that I value very highly and find to be a strong source of healing, artistic inspiration, and awe/ecstasy in my life. These intense moments are something that I try to actively document and foster. For me, music is another large source of awe, whether recorded or live, and I find it important to maintain my connection to music in a variety of mental states. Another element of Dostoevsky that I appreciate is the necessity to reconcile earthly and spiritual natures. In The Brothers Karamazov, I found myself relating heavily with Ivan, which is fairly concerning given his fate. But with more careful studying of Dostoevsky, I hope to break out of this unsuccessful reconciliation via intellectualism and find myself more in the realm of the earthly saint. To do this, I’m working to acknowledge all parts of myself, even the uncomfortable ones. In the earthly realm, I need to recognize my emotional side, including my anger and innate desires, and form an even stronger connection to the earth itself. And in the spiritual realm, I need to recognize the power of my own mind and soul, particularly the power to be “good” despite my base nature. I also strongly agree with the importance Dostoevsky places on maintaining connections to the past through memories. Losing memory is one of my biggest fears, and to combat this I try to document as much as I can about my life so that I’ll be able to put my future self into the shoes of my current self, and really understand my life through my own past words and creations. Lastly, and most importantly, Dostoevsky emphasizes the necessity of social connectedness in having a meaningful life, which I think is very realistic for many people, myself included. As resistant as I can be to rely on others, it would be ridiculous to think I could get through life completely alone. Other people teach me things, support me, create memories and humor in my life, and inspire me to think in new ways. Building strong relationships with others was the main thing I wrote about in my “meaning of life” essay at the beginning of the quarter, and now after reading Dostoevsky, I have even more reason to support this view. I wouldn’t go as far as to equate this chain of connections to salvation, but I like applying the chain of connections idea to the sharing of shows, movies, books, jokes, and songs, almost in the same vein as “giving an onion”. Humans are incredibly connected, whether we want to be or not, and making the conscious decision to share something you enjoy with another person, even a simple thought, is itself creating meaning in the world.
Jacqueline McAleer is a senior at the University of Washington, majoring in Neuroscience and Philosophy. You can reach her at mcalejac@uw.edu.