Is there anything beyond the futility of the external world, governed by fierce competition, ambition and baseless pleasures?
Where does one take refuge from the constant treadmill of busyness that encapsulates our day to day working lives?
One is inclined to ask, is there anything outside of the status games played within our society, trying impress others through fame, fortune or luxury consumer goods. A life of endless striving for misleading pleasures is exhausting. Spending money to buy new things requires one to dedicate more and more of one’s time to work – an endless cycle.
So what can provide us with reprieve from this perpetual restlessness. Religions, philosophers, and intellectuals have long praised the benefits of going inwards. Practices such as meditation, prayer, reading and contemplation allow one to connect with themselves more deeply. This distances and shelters us from the noise of the social and political world. It provides us with perspective from the outrage of news headlines and increasingly polarized politics.
Learning for its Own Sake
But what constitutes an inner life, and how can it be cultivated? In Lost in Thought: The Hidden Pleasures of an Intellectual Life, Zena Hitz looks at how intellectual pursuits help us foster inner depth and meaning. Hitz wants to democratize learning and education beyond the proverbial ‘Ivory Tower.’ She wants to recover the joys and pleasure of learning for its own sake.
If an individual is intrinsically motivated, they’ll willingly spend hours upon hours learning about a subject. They will study its nuance and intricacies because this is what genuinely interests them irrespective of any external rewards. Grades, high paying jobs and social status may be a byproduct of their efforts, but it is not their sole focus.
Hitz argues that learning is a noble and worthy goal in and of itself . Wonder and contemplation of life’s central questions is part of our human nature. As Hitz writes,
Education begins from the assumption that students are capable of taking responsibility for their own learning and they are naturally motivated, even driven from within to pursue fundamental questions….If we wish to promote the virtue of seriousness in young people, to pass on free inquiry, to lead students in the depths where real understanding take place, we must first cultivate ourselves.
Zena Hitz, Lost in Thought: The Hidden Pleasures of an Intellectual Life
Expanding our Humanity
Education broadens our horizons, and exposes us to different perspectives and ways of being. Great literature informs us of our connection to others regardless of class, race or gender. It demonstrates that at a more fundamental level, we all have the same basic emotions, desires and struggles. Math and science enables us to transcend the trivialities of the day to day to discover fundamental truths about the cosmos.
By reading broadly and widely we become exposed to different ways of life. This provides insight and allows us to engage in self-reflection of both our selves and society as a whole.
Restoring Human Dignity
The value of an inner world and pursuing learning for its own sake is that it offers a source of human dignity. Intellectual life (outside of the academy) demonstrates that our self worth is greater than what is merely instrumental (i.e., social status, political views, cash in a bank account). We can’t simply be reduced by our outward appearance or external achievements.
At its best, education inspires and aspires us towards a higher ideal. It shows us the path towards something greater than our limited self-interest, something beyond ourself.
On a planet that has existed for billions of years, the human lifespan is remarkably short. Assuming I live to 80, the average age of a Canadian male, I have about 4,000 weeks on this earth. If I am lucky and healthy enough to make it that long, that gives me about 2,500 weeks left. [1]
Given the limits of our short existence, why is it that we waste so much of our time on trivialities, on fulfilling the expectations of others and neglecting our authentic selves. We spend our time carelessly while we know our mortality is something that can often be often unpredictable, unexpected and out of our control.
Constrained by Limits
Writing in ancient Rome, the Stoic philosopher Seneca observed the importance of being aware of your mortality as a check against frivolously wasting our days. In his essay On the Shortness of Life he writes,
you live as if you would live forever; the thought of human frailty never enters your head, you never notice how much of your time is already spent. You squander it as though your store were full to overflowing, when in fact the very day of which you make a present to someone or something may be your last. Like the mortal you are, you are apprehensive of everything; but your desires are unlimited as if you were immortal.
As humans, whether we accept it or not, we are constrained by our biology – we all have limits. What this means is that we have to make choices about what things to prioritize, and how best to spend the fleeting number of weeks, hours and minutes we have left.
In his book Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals Oliver Burkeman makes the point that is naïve and often counterproductive to think that there will come a point when we have attained perfect order and control of our lives. When we finally reached the ideal ‘work-life’ balance that we’ve been dreaming of, crossing off every item of our never-ending to-do lists. Instead of running on the elusive treadmill of productivity, filling our lives with worry and anxiety, Burkeman advises that we should learn to accept our limitations. He notes that we are seduced,
into imagining that we might find room for everything important by eliminating only life’s tedious tasks. But it’s a lie. You have to choose a few things, sacrifice everything else, and deal with the inevitable sense of loss that results.
Technology, self-help gurus and ‘productivity hacks’ have attempted to convince us that we can do more and more with our finite time. It is true that these tools help us achieve more and eliminate mundane tasks, but it comes at a cost. The great paradox of the modern age is that technology, which was meant to save us time has left us more anxious, busy and frantic.
The smartphone has made communication much easier and more efficient. However, it has also blurred the lines between work and home life. Instant messaging has left us in a state of constant apprehension and alertness always anticipating when we’ll receive the next text message.
A consequence of being a finite human being is the necessity of making decisions which limits our options. ‘FOMO’ or the fear of missing out, is not a defect or something to be frowned upon. Rather it is a byproduct and a feature of the limited nature of our existence.
Quality Versus Quantity
Thanks to the modern advances of the industrial age, the human lifespan has more than doubled over the past century. Of course, this is a great achievement is something to be celebrated.
What gets missed however in this project to continuously increase the length of our lives is the focus on quality. That is, the ancient ideal of living a life akin to virtue and goodness. A rich life filled with purpose, value and intention.
What good would it do me to live a long life devoid of meaning?
Ultimately, we don’t know when our time will come. Like many, we may hope to prolong our life’s ambitions or wishful side projects for our retirement. But who knows what fate has in store for us?
An individual who is solely focused climbing up the career ladder, may neglect the need to cultivate interests and hobbies outside of work. When they are finally ready to retire, they are left with their life’s savings and an influx of free time but no idea what to do with it.
The 16th century philosopher Michel De Montaigne said that “to practice death is to practice freedom.” We know our lives will all come to an inevitable end. Rather than succumbing to fear or avoiding this basic fact of our existence, Montaigne advises us to embrace it. To accept it. To keep it at the forefront of our minds.
Allowing ourselves to be constantly reminded of our finitude and mortality enables us to give our lives a renewed sense of urgency and purpose. Once the fear is quelled, we can fully appreciate the time we are given. Our time can be savored with our full attention and meaning.
The world is in constant flux. Our lives are entangled in a sea of uncertainties. While we can meticulously plan ahead, the only thing we can be certain about is the present moment, what is right in front of us.
In the final analysis, when you’ve reached the end of your days, what will you truly remember?
What will you desire to be known for?
Perhaps answering these questions is a starting point to allocating our limited number of days left of this earth.
Tell me, what is it that you will plan to do with your one wild and precious life?
Mary Oliver
[1] If you do the math, you’ll come to the conclusion that I am just about 30 years.
We often look back on our childhood with great reverence and adoration. A time when we were not yet burdened with the responsibilities and demands of adulthood. When the only limitations and boundaries we faced were the limits of our imagination.
Learning about the world and experiencing things for the first time we were often in a perpetual state of awe and wonder. A state of play.
This essence of euphoria and enjoyment for the world however starts to fade as we transition into adulthood. We are no longer able to find joy and awe in the mundane aspects of everyday life.
Life transforms into something that must be taken seriously, and the idea of play becomes trivialized. Something we only feel justified engaging in if we have spare time after completing our work, responsibilities and obligations.
Furthermore, we are told that time is money and conflate ‘busyness’ with importance. Thus, we feel guilty in indulging in leisure or any sort of ‘unproductive’ activity.
Every minute must be planned and calculated. No time must be wasted.
We can divide our motivations for pursuing certain activities/things into two categories – instrumental and intrinsic values.
Instrumental value is something that we pursue to achieve some other goal. To illustrate this point, we can look at our incentives for work. Many of us work not because we enjoy doing so[1] but rather out of necessity – to earn a living and survive. Other examples of instrumental thinking include:
Getting an education to get a good job;
Working a prestigious career because it brings you high status;
Jogging for the health benefits it brings you.
I want to emphasize that these are all valid reasons for pursuing worthy goals. The point is however is that they are not done for sake of themselves. They are simply means to ends.
The logic is, only after achieving X {dream job, promotion, a certain salary, marriage etc.} I can be content. Happiness is deferred to the future.
On the other hand, intrinsic value is something that is appreciated in and of itself. These are the core reasons why we pursue certain goals. One way to get at what is intrinsically valuable is to ask a series of questions which get at the root cause of your motivations.
Suppose your life is made up of things you do for the sake of something else — you do A in order to get B, and you do B only to get C, and so on. Therefore A has no value in itself; its value lies in the B. But B has no value in itself: that value lies in the C. Perhaps we eventually encounter something — call it Z — that’s valuable for what it is in itself, and not for anything else.
For Aristotle, his notion of eudaimonia, roughly translated as happiness or human flourishing, is something that has intrinsic value. Things such as having a successful career where one enjoys their work or having financial freedom are sought after because they allow for one to attain happiness.
Let us look at some other examples:
The Rise of Machines
So how does this tie into some of the current issues we face today?
The prominent sociologist Max Weber claimed that modern societies were trapped in an ‘iron cage’ of rationalization. With the loss of traditional values and social ties, the modern era is governed by the ethic of efficiency and rationality.
The ideal of material progress has allowed us to create effective and innovative corporations and bureaucracies which have enabled significant increases in our living standards. However, it has come at the cost of the stripping away of human sympathy, emotion and dignity. We are transformed into numbers on a spreadsheet, cogs in the machine and mere instruments required to keep the system running.
Consequently, we become more akin to robots or machines than sentient human beings. The intrinsic value and dignity as a human being is all but lost.
Weber’s critique of modern society is that it is governed by instrumental reason and utilitarian values. For the sake of greater efficiency and productivity, we transform human activity and interactions into something measurable and quantifiable. Social media fosters intense competition for status as we chase after more likes, comments and shares then our peers.
A consequence of this mode of existence is that our relationship to the world becomes primarily extractive.Our focus becomes consuming or having things rather then experiencing them in and of itself.
It’s a cliché in our culture to hear the phrase ‘do what you love’, what does that even mean?
On a deeper level I think it is connected to play. We play when are deeply engaged in something because we truly enjoy it, irrespective of any reward or social benefit it may bring us. It awakens us to the present moment.
Diane Ackerman in her book Deep Play discusses moments of play when we are completely immersed in the moment. It bears resemblance to the concept of flow which I have written about before. She writes,
Deep play arises in such moments of intense enjoyment, focus, control, creativity, timelessness, confidence, volition, lack of self-awareness (hence transcendence) while doing things intrinsically worthwhile, rewarding for their own sake…It feels cleansing because when acting and thinking becomes one, there is no room left for other thoughts.
Diane Ackerman – Deep Play
This is not to say we must detach from our obligations and responsibilities as adults. Rather, it is to emphasize the importance of carving out a space or time to immerse yourself in play. A space where you can temporarily forget about expectations and the world around you.
Where you can feel alive.
When you can to let go, be in the present and be free.
A Life of Virtue: Philosophy as a Way of Life 