Thursday 18 January 2001

Pic of the day: Does the tree worry because it cannot run?

Between hubris and despair

On a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you agree with this statement:
"I feel in control of my life"?

2.

OK, that demands an explanation, does it not?

***

"When a man is past 30" quoted my father often, "it's like he's walking underneath the mountainside. He is not sure of his life for a day anymore." And I'm well past 30. At 42, I don't really take my life for granted even for an hour. At virtually any time, I could die from any of a number of reasons, varying from an asteroid impact to choking on my choco-milk. One thing is certain about life: That it will end. But also another thing is certain: It is here, right now.

Even should I survive, there are all manner of debilitating damages that may occur. Dangers from within or without my body may rob me of mobility, sight, hearing, legs, arms, intellect or sanity. It may happen suddenly, or gradually. Some loss is in fact to be expected. I better be who I am while I remain.

And even while I remain whole and wholesome, I may lose friends or family - either to death or something close to it, or they may just decide that I am no longer worthy of them. Humans are unstable at the best of times, body and soul. We must say all the words that should be spoken, before they are lost forever.

On a lesser scale of disaster, I may lose my job or my apartment, perhaps suddenly and in a disgraceful way. I may even, Light forbid, lose my diary archives.

I live in a rather affluent and peaceful little country, but history shows us that neither riches nor peace can be taken for granted. The gross stupidity of rulers as well as the ruled has often thrown prosperous nations into war and civil war, or seen the innocent attacked by barbarians of various stripe. The price of freedom is eternal vigilance.

***

All is not night and fog, though. I firmly believe in free will, but it is a conditional free will. My entire existence is conditional, and my will is limited. Still, I know I have a choice. I do not need to react like an automaton.

I do not need to attack if provoked. I do not need to be envious when others rise above me. I do not need to be jealous when someone I love prefer another. I do not need to be bitter when I experience loss. I can learn from those who criticize me, and occasionally even give without asking for payment.

And yet, free will has its limit. At best it can be trained like a muscle. If I would try to stop eating, I doubt my resolve would last long. The same goes if I would try to get into strenous physical exercize.

There are many who are worse off than I. Perhaps even most people. Some live in poverty, some live surrounded by crime or insanity. Some live, for all purposes, in slavery. And even among the well off, many are caught in destructive habits that bend and break their will. Others are caught in the grip of delusion or at least superstition that permeate their lives, running them through an emotional rollercoaster or an unceasing treadmill of internal slavery, fear and spiritual anguish.

And yet, some of the people that to me seem little more than sticks drifting down the eddies of time and fate, still feel strong. They still feel in charge of their lives. Is control then only in the eyes of the beholder?

The poor is happy because he has 5 dollar more than nothing; the rich is unhappy because he has 9 million dollar instead of 10. Maybe it is also this way with me? There seems to me such a thin line between hubris and despair; and yet somehow there is room for entire lives there, yes, entire nations. Perhaps a world.