I'm going to keep this brief, as I can't even be bothered to listen to myself at the moment.
Have experienced an interesting range of emotions this evening. Started off quite chipper, moved on to having a mild panic attack, and have ended up feeling profoundly sad (as if there was any other kind).
Find myself thinking I need a holiday, but then I remember that I'm a philosopher and the idea of a philosopher needing a holiday is liable to provoke scornful laughter in anyone who has a real job.
Ultimately though I realise that I am just one of millions of tiny, absurd and self-obsessed individuals stumbling about confusedly in this world. I just haven't quite decided whether this is something I should consider crushing or comforting.
Tomorrow, however, is another day. I'll work it out then.
Thursday 28 April 2011
Tuesday 12 April 2011
Confession...
I am here to make a confession. Not of guilt, but in a rather old fashioned sense. The Latin word in the Bible from which 'confession', in both the Catholic and Augustinian senses, is 'confiteri'. Psalm 32:5 in particular seems important in this respect:
"I acknowledge my sin unto thee, and mine iniquity have I not hid."
What interests me is the idea of not hiding. God will know your sins, so the point in confession is not to inform God, but just to be honest with oneself in front of God. Now, I don't believe in God, so that isn't really an option. But I still think there is a great virtue in being honest with oneself. So it is in this sense that I confess.
The truth is, I'm lonely. I've been fairly consistently single for almost three years now. What I miss most is waking up next to someone. Waking up alone can leave me feeling unutterably sad, which, needless to say, is not a wonderful way to start your day.
However, the question arises as to what the relationship between my loneliness and my sadness is. I suspect that, rather than being sad because I am lonely, I am lonely because I am sad. I have a melancholic temperament at the best of times, but I don't think this equates to being sad. For the most part, I am relatively content, I think. Even when I am happy, I'd still say I am melancholic. And when I am happy, I'm not lonely. In fact, I think I'm somewhat prone to being a bit of a loner when I am happy. Of course I enjoy seeing my friends when I'm happy, but I rarely feel that need to be around other people.
Of course, it is distinctly possible that the loneliness does cause my unhappiness, and that the loneliness simply comes and goes of its own accord. But I'm inclined to believe that feeling lonely is symptomatic of a wider frame of mind. It's the same frame of mind that makes me stare into the distance, considering the virtues of starting a new life somewhere else. It's just a desire for change, change in which I can be someone else.
The distinction is an important one, as this kind of loneliness would be a selfish one. To desire romance as a salve for an aching heart is just another form of self-medication, and one in which we have the potential to hurt others. When we are unhappy, we often lack self-confidence, and it is natural enough to look to others for reassurance. But when we do this we run the risk of bringing negativity into their lives, of draining something from them. Unfortunately, I speak from experience on this matter. It's not something I hugely wish to experience again...
And it is often the case that what we desire is an idea of what someone can do for us, or an ideal of what romance should represent. Giacomo Leopardi's poem 'To His Lady' is a beautiful example of this; a man lamenting that his lover can never live up to the Platonic form of femininity with which he is truly in love.
I suspect, oddly, that loneliness is not a good reason to go looking for love. Maybe I'm kidding myself. Maybe I'm just trying to rationalise my clear inability to find love. Justify not trying. I certainly haven't been proactive of late, in this regard. It's not that I don't occasionally see someone I find attractive, I just don't seem to be able to translate this into any kind of motivation to talk to said attractive person. And when I occasionally force myself to do such things, I tend to lose interest rapidly. All of which lends credence to the theory that I'm not really looking for companionship, but simply a remedy to ennui.
And so I confess my sins. I am going to try and overcome my loneliness and concentrate on being a better person. To look after myself better than I do. To find the confidence in both my life and my work so that I can be at peace with myself. Of course I will never be free of melancholy and sadness. I wouldn't want to be; sadness is part of the human condition, and helps us empathise with those around us. But hopefully I can achieve a state of mind in which I am, for the most part, content. And, in this state of mind, maybe I'll find myself capable of engaging with another human being in a manner characterised by respect, compassion and love.
Aristotle claimed that, in order to love others, it is necessary to love ourselves as well. I have to admit, I've occasionally wondered whether the reverse may not also be true; that we must love others in order to love ourselves. In truth, there is probably something to both of these maxims. This, for me, is because we are never alone; our lives are always intertwined with the lives of others. Who we are is necessarily related to who we live alongside. As such, how we perceive and behave towards others necessarily effects how we perceive and behave towards ourselves. It is a circular relationship. The key is in learning to enter this circle in the right spirit. My task for now is to cultivate that spirit.
"I acknowledge my sin unto thee, and mine iniquity have I not hid."
What interests me is the idea of not hiding. God will know your sins, so the point in confession is not to inform God, but just to be honest with oneself in front of God. Now, I don't believe in God, so that isn't really an option. But I still think there is a great virtue in being honest with oneself. So it is in this sense that I confess.
The truth is, I'm lonely. I've been fairly consistently single for almost three years now. What I miss most is waking up next to someone. Waking up alone can leave me feeling unutterably sad, which, needless to say, is not a wonderful way to start your day.
However, the question arises as to what the relationship between my loneliness and my sadness is. I suspect that, rather than being sad because I am lonely, I am lonely because I am sad. I have a melancholic temperament at the best of times, but I don't think this equates to being sad. For the most part, I am relatively content, I think. Even when I am happy, I'd still say I am melancholic. And when I am happy, I'm not lonely. In fact, I think I'm somewhat prone to being a bit of a loner when I am happy. Of course I enjoy seeing my friends when I'm happy, but I rarely feel that need to be around other people.
Of course, it is distinctly possible that the loneliness does cause my unhappiness, and that the loneliness simply comes and goes of its own accord. But I'm inclined to believe that feeling lonely is symptomatic of a wider frame of mind. It's the same frame of mind that makes me stare into the distance, considering the virtues of starting a new life somewhere else. It's just a desire for change, change in which I can be someone else.
The distinction is an important one, as this kind of loneliness would be a selfish one. To desire romance as a salve for an aching heart is just another form of self-medication, and one in which we have the potential to hurt others. When we are unhappy, we often lack self-confidence, and it is natural enough to look to others for reassurance. But when we do this we run the risk of bringing negativity into their lives, of draining something from them. Unfortunately, I speak from experience on this matter. It's not something I hugely wish to experience again...
And it is often the case that what we desire is an idea of what someone can do for us, or an ideal of what romance should represent. Giacomo Leopardi's poem 'To His Lady' is a beautiful example of this; a man lamenting that his lover can never live up to the Platonic form of femininity with which he is truly in love.
I suspect, oddly, that loneliness is not a good reason to go looking for love. Maybe I'm kidding myself. Maybe I'm just trying to rationalise my clear inability to find love. Justify not trying. I certainly haven't been proactive of late, in this regard. It's not that I don't occasionally see someone I find attractive, I just don't seem to be able to translate this into any kind of motivation to talk to said attractive person. And when I occasionally force myself to do such things, I tend to lose interest rapidly. All of which lends credence to the theory that I'm not really looking for companionship, but simply a remedy to ennui.
And so I confess my sins. I am going to try and overcome my loneliness and concentrate on being a better person. To look after myself better than I do. To find the confidence in both my life and my work so that I can be at peace with myself. Of course I will never be free of melancholy and sadness. I wouldn't want to be; sadness is part of the human condition, and helps us empathise with those around us. But hopefully I can achieve a state of mind in which I am, for the most part, content. And, in this state of mind, maybe I'll find myself capable of engaging with another human being in a manner characterised by respect, compassion and love.
Aristotle claimed that, in order to love others, it is necessary to love ourselves as well. I have to admit, I've occasionally wondered whether the reverse may not also be true; that we must love others in order to love ourselves. In truth, there is probably something to both of these maxims. This, for me, is because we are never alone; our lives are always intertwined with the lives of others. Who we are is necessarily related to who we live alongside. As such, how we perceive and behave towards others necessarily effects how we perceive and behave towards ourselves. It is a circular relationship. The key is in learning to enter this circle in the right spirit. My task for now is to cultivate that spirit.
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