Weird People
IF anybody out there is paying attention and has missed my presence here over the last few months, I apologize. Metaphorically speaking, I don’t “have internet” in the cave where I’ve been hiding and my devotion and energy level for journaling and blogging has been pretty low. The days are getting longer…some flowers are starting to poke through the dirt…so I am peeking out again. Well, here goes…something.
I cannot pretend to completely imagine what brings each person to read my rambling thoughts. You might have a sense of “displacement”–or brokenness–your self. You might be married to such a person, or in some other sort of “significant” relationship. You might have a broken and suffering parent, sibling, or child. It could just be peripheral curiosity–a sort of personality voyeurism. It is not my purpose to know these things; although I do sometimes wonder about them…obviously.
Within the past few weeks I have stumbled upon (as if there were any such thing as coincidence) the writings of Hermann Hesse. First, I wondered how his work had eluded me for all this time–why hadn’t I seen this stuff before!? Maybe things just happen when they’re supposed to happen. In any event, Hesse ably articulates and elucidates some concepts that have held my curiosity for decades now. The following passage–from the opening pages of “Steppenwolf”–really put some things “in order” for me. I have no desire to write a “book report” here, so I’m not going to “set this up” for you…just hit on the ideas that jumped out at me.
It was some remembered conversation with Haller that gave me the key to this interpretation. He said to me once when we were talking of the so-called horrors of the Middle Ages: “These horrors were really non-existent. A man of the Middle Ages would detest the whole mode of our present day life as something far more than horrible and cruel, far more than barbarous. Every age, every culture, every custom and tradition has its own character, its own weakness and its own strength, its beauties and cruelties; it accepts certain sufferings as matters of course, puts up patiently with certain evils. Human life is reduced to real suffering, to hell, only when two ages, two cultures and religions overlap. A man of the Classical age who had to live in medieval times would suffocate miserably just as a savage does in the midst of our civilisation. Now there are times when a whole generation is caught in this way between two ages, between two modes of life and thus loses the feeling for itself, for the self-evident, for all morals, for being safe and innocent. Naturally, everyone does not feel this equally strongly. A nature such as Nietzsche’s had to suffer our present ills more than a generation in advance. What he had to go through alone and misunderstood, thousands suffer today.”
I often had to think of these words while reading the records. Haller belongs to those who have been caught between two ages, who are outside of all security and innocence. He belongs to those whose fate it is to live the whole riddle of human destiny heightened to the pitch of a personal torture, a personal hell. [Italics added]
I cannot tell you how many times I have wondered if I fell through a crack in the space-time machine…born in the wrong decade or century; the wrong country or continent; or on the wrong planet in the wrong galaxy. My sense of aloneness and displacement has been haunting, persistent, growing, and at time severe. Only relatively recently has it become clear to me that there is a huge difference between “unique” and “weird.” All individuals are, by definition, unique. But there is a sort of statistical scattering when it comes to weirdness. I. am. weird. [The ones who know me in real life would affirm my assertion. Of this I am sure.]
Hesse–especially poignantly in the quoted passage–speaks to me. Here he describes the experiences of “displaced” (or “misplaced”?) persons. It has frequently bugged the piss out of me that “people” seem to only be able to examine other times, ages, and places through the filter of their present scene. While in most cases their filters don’t even allow for any incisive consideration of what’s happening under their noses right NOW. If, in Hesse’s time, there were “thousands” who were experiencing the suffering of “present ills” to the ONE in Nietzsche’s day, then surely there must be millions in our times. I am one of those millions…one of millions out of the thousands of millions (i.e. billions) who currently call Earth home.
Consider with me–for the sake of discussion and accepting Hesse’s contention real struggles emerge when ages, cultures, and religions overlap–that today we are seeing the “overlapping” of a multitude of ages, cultures, and religions. Technological changes–and thus commercial and societal changes–are so rapid that one can see several “overlaps” in one’s own lifetime. What once moved at a pace that gradually affected groups of people over generations can, and do, now wash over large portions of the population over the course of years, months, or even weeks. Whether or not things are moving “too fast” isn’t the question or the problem. What is left in the wake of the tsunamis of change is the problem. [This hits me as a nearly inarguable proposition...but if you can set me straight, I welcome your feedback.]
Back to the regularly scheduled programming…
Where does this leave me? Where does it leave you? Whether you’re struggling with the question, “to be, or not to be,” or struggling with a loved one who is struggling with the question, there clearly is a struggle. Do you think Nietzsche had no one in his life that cared about him? That nobody wanted to or tried to love him? That there wasn’t at least one other person that he wanted to love and with whom he wished to relate? What about ______________? Just fill in the blank with any weird, revolutionary, philosophical, religious, etc. historical figure that comes to mind. Or, more pertinently, just fill it in with “me.” We need to “get real.” We need to decide whether or not we can embrace our own stumbling, bumbling self and move forward with a realization and acceptance of our weirdness. We need to decide whether or not we can embrace and realize and accept the weirdness of our stumbling and bumbling significant others. Just because I’m weird–in the words of a dearly departed friend of mine–it doesn’t make me a bad person. Some other things might, but that doesn’t.
Are you one of those whose fate it is to live the whole riddle of human destiny heightened to the pitch of a personal torture, a personal hell? You are NOT alone.
I am Broken Too…
Peace.
“Just because I am weird…doesn’t make me a bad person”. No, it doesn’t. It usually makes the person fascinating (to me anyway), IMHO.
Whether or not Nietzsche had someone actually love him, I don’t know. If he had, he certainly would have deflected their attentions in favor of his pursuit of his intellectual/philosophical goals.
He had definite views on the life of a philosopher and marriage:
On page 543 of *Basic Writings of Nietzsche in Genealogy of Morals: Third Essay, he writes:
” Every animal—therefore the philosophical animal, too— instinctively strives for an optimum of favorable conditions under which it can expend all its strength and achieve its maximal feeling of power; every animal abhors, just as instinctively and with a subtlety of discernment that is “higher than all reason,” every kind of intrusion or hindrance that obstructs or could obstruct this path to the optimum (I am not speaking of its path to happiness, but its path to power, to action, to the most powerful activity, and in most cases actually its path to unhappiness). Thus the philosopher abhors marriage, together with that which might persuade to it—marriage being a hindrance and calamity on his path to the optimum. What great philosopher hitherto has been married? Heraclitus, Plato, Descartes, Spinoza, Leibniz, Kant, Schopenhauer—they were not; more, one cannot even imagine them married. A married philosopher belongs in comedy, that is my proposition—and as for that exception, Socrates—the malicious Socrates, it would seem, married ironically, just to demonstrate this proposition.”
Apparently, the philosopher is married to his work, not to a woman, who would detract from his serious contemplations. Did he take a long term lover? I wonder.
I can relate…completely to Nietzsche’s sentiment. As an intelligent, introspective and quasi-philosophical married woman and wanna-be writer, I find myself conflicted and sometimes even irritated over having interruptions to my thought processes by ordinary things like dishes, child care and being requested to snuggle when I want to think or write.
It’s, in some regards, terribly selfish, but it’s true. Writers, philosophers, poets, artists, and their ilk are often married more to their idea(l)s which can makes it very difficult to make room for people on a long term basis. Sure, there is some satisfaction to be had, but there is a constant tug in two directions – the more tranquil (read: boring) existence of domestic “bliss” and the siren call of the creative/thinking life.
Personally, I think, some amount of suffering brings out creativity as much as ecstasy does. I CAN’T lead a suffering-free life. And I am not sure I want to. I need those major swings between the highs and the lows. But that’s just MY weirdness.
Oh, and Nietzsche coined one of my most favorite aphorisms: “That which does not kill us makes us stronger.” This aphorism was one that got me through MANY a tough nights when I struggled with suicidal ideations.
And yeah, your presence on this blog was missed.
Yes. Both suffering AND ecstasy “bring out” creativity.
I have found that EVERY level of the human experience can and does stimulate the creative.
Some of my most “foundation rattling” epiphanies have come while washing dishes, sewing, crocheting, cutting the grass, changing diapers, wrangling with obstinate adolescents (children of all ages, actually), doing laundry, cooking, and any number of other “mundane” activities. Usually my frustrations stem not from the specific activity but from some other area of non-resolve.
Even if the philosopher refuses to stoop to the level of the cook or the dishwasher, SOMEBODY is washing the dishes.
It might be time for the philosopher who thinks s/he is married to a “detractor” to broaden her/his scope. Challenges to growth come in all sorts of packages.
Thanks for the comments!
Well, I’d have to agree with you, that some of the most important epiphanies I have had come while engaged in simple tasks. I’m not really arguing the value and necessity of such activities, but when I had a fulfilling career, those tasks were more relaxing to me. Now, the endless dishes, endless laundry, endless picking up after everyone is not as much of a relaxing task.
“Usually my frustrations stem not from the specific activity but from some other area of non-resolve.”
I have many areas of non-resolve…one of them is the non-resolve of wanting to broaden my scope of achieving something beyond my four walls and not knowing what that is (having many desires and no definitive pull towards any of them – I frequently change my mind).
Anyway, I’m rambling on a minor irritation. I don’t want to make a huge mountain out of it.
“It might be time for the philosopher who thinks s/he is married to a “detractor” to broaden her/his scope.”
Probably. Or it might be a simple matter of learning some time management skills.
Endless dishes, laundry, picking up after everyone? Endless? Really?
All “huge mountains” are made up of little things. There are no big things.
Methinks that improved “time management skills” might qualify under the broadened scope heading. Just as there are no big things, scope broadening is incremental…and simple.
Thanks. Peace!
i came up with a saying, “if you spend your whole life searching for meaning, what are you left with?” Tho i’m sure many have thought and said this before. Terence (the greek philosopher not the American one) say, nothing new under sun.
Now I’m not saying that philosophical endeavors are futile or unnecessary, I think there exist very practical applications of them and that they can give great insight into the motivations behind the actions. I do think that philosophy in and of itself, or rather philosophizing for only the sake of looking within oneself, is based on the faulty supposition that our “self” is deeper than anything else around us. we are part of nature, are we not? I think this simplicity of our nature in relation to nature herhimitself is why some of our deepest revelations come when we are doing seemingly mundane or shallow tasks.
separate from the substance that is love, we are reduced to overcomplicated, self indulgent, whining whiiiiners. Now, i’m not calling Nietzsche—actually, yes I am calling him an overcomplicated, self-indulgent, whining whiner. Partially because he dissed my man Socrates, but also think about it; (other than pulling jill through suicidal times) what good has come from his philosophy?
In response i suppose he would call me a pompous, presumptuous, feeble bastard in labeling the fruits of his labor good or bad, and that’s a fair assertion. I have no proof that there even is such a thing we call love and i’m aware that my subjectively held ideals do not match up with anyone else’s. We’re all different and everything is relative. and yes, my desire for god and love probably come from a deep seated fear that everything is meaningless and is just a predictable response to the stimuli and environment in which i was placed.
But every day i see the power of belief. Every time i focus on something positive and train my subconscious mind to desire things of love and what i perceive to be goodness it happens. Every time I pray to whatever god i’m praying to–or rather recite meaningless words to a figment of my imagination–I feel something.
The knowledge that i may be grasping for a nonexistant bouy in this sea of existence is scary as shit, and brings me suffering every day. But even with this knowledge there is hope and the possibility of faith. and with this faith comes strength and joy. To me, trudging on through this suffering is a form of martyrdom, and is the lot of the good, unselfish man. It was the lot of Jesus (my god, why have u forsaken me?) just as it is the lot of you and me, we all bear the cross. i bear it with contentment until i start to doubt that love conquers death.
Nietzsche was a thinker, John Lennon and Bob Marley were philosophers. They better than anyone realized that there are an endless amount of ways in which to explore and express your “self”. Yet what came to be the recurring theme in both of their musics? Love. not harry met sally kissing in the grass making babies perpetuating the human race love, but ONE LOVE. God, Jah, Allah, YHWH. I think they were on to something.
i guess what i’m saying in summary is that faith for faith’s sake has made a lot more happy children than philosophy for philosophy’s sake.
“you think you are complicated, deep mystery to all, but it’s taken me a while to see, you’re not so special, all energy no meaning, with a lot of words, so paper thin that one real feeling could knock you down”
Miss Dido said that one in a song called “see you when you’re forty”
Yes! Now THAT’S what I’m talkin’ about!!!
Thank you, ESwitch…
“But every day i see the power of belief. Every time i focus on something positive and train my subconscious mind to desire things of love and what i perceive to be goodness it happens. Every time I pray to whatever god i’m praying to–or rather recite meaningless words to a figment of my imagination–I feel something.”
That’s pretty cool. I actually do find that to be true as well, at least on the days I make the effort.
Ask me a different day, and you’ll get the existential cynic in me.
O, to be one or the other would probably resolve much of my dilemma.
************
But getting back to philosophical thought and relationship, I think I ought to investigate some more of Bertrand Russell’s works. He is considered to be one of the founders of analytical philosophy and he received the Nobel Prize in literature, and co-wrote Prinicipia Mathematica. Unlike Nietzsche, he was married, what…4 times? See what he has to say about the relationship of love in HIS intellectual life:
“At the age of 84, Russell added a five-paragraph prologue to a new publication of his autobiography, giving a summary of the work and his life, titled WHAT I HAVE LIVED FOR.[43]
Three passions, simple but overwhelmingly strong, have governed my life: the longing for love, the search for knowledge, and unbearable pity for the suffering of mankind. These passions, like great winds, have blown me hither and thither, in a wayward course, over a deep ocean of anguish, reaching to the very verge of despair.
I have sought love, first, because it brings ecstasy—ecstasy so great that I would often have sacrificed all the rest of life for a few hours of this joy. I have sought it, next, because it relieves loneliness—that terrible loneliness in which one shivering consciousness looks over the rim of the world into the cold unfathomable lifeless abyss. I have sought it, finally, because in the union of love I have seen, in a mystic miniature, the prefiguring vision of the heaven that saints and poets have imagined. This is what I sought, and though it might seem too good for human life, this is what—at last—I have found.
With equal passion I have sought knowledge. I have wished to understand the hearts of men. I have wished to know why the stars shine. And I have tried to apprehend the Pythagorean power by which number holds sway above the flux. A little of this, but not much, I have achieved.
Love and knowledge, so far as they were possible, led upward toward the heavens. But always pity brought me back to earth. Echoes of cries of pain reverberate in my heart. Children in famine, victims tortured by oppressors, helpless old people a hated burden to their sons, and the whole world of loneliness, poverty, and pain make a mockery of what human life should be. I long to alleviate the evil, but I cannot, and I too suffer.
This has been my life. I have found it worth living, and would gladly live it again if the chance were offered me.”
DAY-um. So perhaps intellectualism CAN co-exist with sensualism. Excellent. Now I don’t have to get a divorce. Who knew????
Um I was only kidding about the divorce…btw
Divorce almost always causes more problems than it solves.
Certainly intellectualism can–and does–coexist with “sensualism.” Just like ALL of the other facets and nuances of the human experience. The struggle that I face is recognizing and declaring the “mixture” that is representative of my own Self.
As for Russell, I have read “Marriage and Morals” and “The Conquest of Happiness” and bits and pieces of other of his works. He is definitely a “challenger.” [But probably a bit too logical for most of my contemporaries.]
“Divorce almost always causes more problems than it solves.”
Sadly, as I’m about to see my father for the first time in 29 years this summer, I do know the pain of this first-hand.
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