Meditations

When I was a young boy I came across Plato's infamous 'Allegory of the Cave'. In it, Plato equated material life to the experience of a prisoner being trapped in a cave of darkness. He believed that only philosophers, with their focus on the intangible, the transcendental, the aesthetic, could escape this cave and experience a world filled only with the ideal. A world forever in the sunlight where perfection reigned eternally. Naturally, gripped by the prospect of experiencing this 'ideal' world and looking for an outlet for a growing awareness of the tragedies inherent in my world, I began obsessing over philosophy, trying desperately to loosen my shackles and flee from my wretched cave and drown in the everlasting bliss of sunshine in that 'other world'. Bit by bit I could feel myself writhing out of my restraints. Flesh tearing, sweat dripping, and blood emboldening, the more I indulged my intellectual curiosity, the more I began to succeed in launching my escape. Then alas, one fine night, the exact date of which eludes me, the stone boulders of materialism came crashing down. I succeeded. What can be described as a cliched life goal had been acquired at last, however, what stood before me was not the promised paradise but rather a dark abyss, staring at me with cynical eyes, its heart fuelled by suffering and chaos. Plato's dream dimension did not exist or perhaps if it did, it was most definitely slaughtered by the vast expanse now consuming me. Curiosity did not lead to bliss it simply opened Pandora's Box.

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Philosophy had opened my eyes, it cleared the colored smoke veiling the true dimension of the world. I began to realize that in my quest I had uncovered the lies of this world, lies which I now know to be essential for happiness. The suffering of the cave exists solely to protect against an even greater suffering that awaits one if he dares escape. It's safe to say I wasn't having the best of times at this point in my life. To some, my goal of intellectual curiosity may seem trivial, insignificant, and just part of a 'phase', but to me, despite my tender age, I considered it my kernel, the very thing by which my life was defined. To have one's ideal stripped away by forces barely perceivable to the human mind was incredibly daunting, I simply could not handle it. Thus, I promptly opted for oblivion. Drowning myself in a blissful repose to simulate that 'other world' I had so longed to see, I proceeded to bathe in the river of forgetfulness and indulge myself in the material. On the one hand, the pain of life had become unbearable, however, on the other hand, I simply could not allow myself to go back to believing the lies constructed by the false idols of this silly world. Therefore you see, in a sense, oblivion was my only option. The more I treaded upon Death's steel scythe, the more I became frustrated at the stupidity of this world. Despite my cosmological suffering, I was enraged by the fact that seemingly everyone around me was perfectly content with having colored smoke draped across their eyes, everyone was fine being trapped in that cave. It was only later of course that I realized what I was really angry about was my own unhappiness and nihilism. So-called 'cosmological suffering' manifested itself in several psychological neuroses (listing which will accomplish little so I'll leave you to your deductions) that ironically made me a prisoner within my own mind. I kept trying to read my way out of this problem, uncover a world beyond, construct unfalsifiable idols, find a 'total' solution, in essence, I tried to 'win the game'. Having naturally been defeated in all these endeavors by the laughter of fate, I sat down and accepted failure for the first time. In my long and arduous journey, I had hitherto managed to think myself out of every problem. I deciphered the formula for the education system, figured out what a 'society' truly was, killed God, understood the psychology of the individual, and euthanized morality, all so that I could achieve my one goal. However, this suffering was too great and my mind had to yield. It was in this failure, however, that I came to ease my great sorrow.

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Pledging my fealty to the demon of defeat, I sat in a place I scarcely remember with people who fade away when pictured. The sun too was surrendering as it retreated into the waves, but night had not yet dominated the world. It was twilight, that magical time when the border between worlds is blurred and even a force as powerful as suffering marvels in delight. Almost on cue, my chronic pain had subsided as I was inundated with memories of times long gone, backlit by the twilight sky. The time I first kicked a football; the enchanting madness of camp with colorful people; the ecstasy of reeling in a fish for the first time; the tears I shed after La La Land; the glory of winning a tournament; the sadness of losing a friend; the endurance of Duke of Edinburgh; the dancing past midnight. It all flooded back with a new nostalgic light. Neither happiness nor suffering, a state of melancholic bliss. This exuberant nostalgia proceeded to project my future aspirations onto the same landscape. I saw myself reading Proust at the Place du Forum; gazing at the horizon once more at the sands of Anse Source d'argent; debating at the Oxford Union; writing a book in a smelly apartment; watching Avatar with my son; sipping Macallan in a suit. In a single moment, my life was restored. I found renewed meaning in nostalgia and its unifying properties, turning suffering into a neo-romantic yesterday and coloring the future with an optimism I didn't know I had. If I could take one thing away from this roller coaster that I've been on, it would be not to look externally to idols, prophets, society, etc for validating your existence, and it would neither be to internally force yourself arrogantly to create meaning. Both are futile attempts that leave you in a constant state of insatiability. Instead, cherish your memories and the potential to make new ones. Nostalgic recollection can cathartically help you recolor suffering in a more agreeable shade rather than trying endlessly to find that 'other world' and overcome suffering.