Existential Malaise vs. The Baptism of Solitude

Well last night I was watching the movie “The invention of lying”. It dramatized what the world would be like if there were not such thing as a lie. Everyone spoke exactly what was on their minds; mostly depressing unhappy thoughts and hateful things to each other but they were just being "honest" (Bollocks). There’s a scene with a woman standing outside of an office building saying to a passer by “I just can’t go in there, you know” desperately wanting to be free from work. The main character then get's torn down by co-works as he's being fired. On way back home he sees his neighbor who is always commenting on his suicide attempts. The whole first part is sort of a downer. The meaningless lives depicted by the movie reminded me of all I had read during my nihilistic phase (basically my late teens to mid twenties). My favorites of that time in my reading history were "Nausea" by

Jean-Paul Sartre, "The Sheltering Sky" by Paul Bowels, "Notes From the Underground" by Dostoevsky, "The Stranger" by Albert Camus, "The labyrinth of

Solitude" by Octavio Paz and of course "Metamorphosis" by Kafka. All of these books where indicative of the “Is that all there is?” syndrome not to mention a lost sense of self and meaningless. All of these books depict modern men and for Paz an entire culture experiencing isolation and alienation. All of these books took an incredible toll on me to digest. I remember being thoroughly creeped out for days after reading "The Sheltering Sky".  I doubt I'll ever read they again.

At that particular time in my life I could relate to these books, although many times I was in the midst of a social flurry I felt alone or at the very least not able to relate and communicate the fullness of my ideas, experiences or thoughts. On reflection it was perhaps due to some sort of idiotic assumption about people or pretentiousness. Instead I opted for numbing intense experiences or mood altering substances, you know like a lot of people. I could say I was depressed but really I was numb.

I needed extremes to feel alive. I had been in the daily 9-5 office routine since I was fresh out of high school. At the time I was of the more financially stable of my friends. I was living the routine of an older person with a fire and rebellion against over civilization burning inside me. Honestly it still does I've just learned to deal with it and use it constructively. I was definitely suffering severely from the "Is that all there is?" syndrome. Perhaps if i would have been knocked up at a young age I would have felt differently but then again I've knows mom's who's children seemed to give them just enough meaning to keep them going.

To family, friends and co-workers I had a busy full life. Always doing something fun or interesting or partying but some how still null and void. Don’t get me wrong I had some great times, adventures, met some fascinating people, dealt with some intense family crisis and death of loved ones but when I was alone or purposefully shutting out the world I was just a shell on my sofa. There was a good three year span where I only spoke with four friends, two which lived elsewhere and was to myself for the majority of the time. I remember once a girl at work commenting to me "You walk around her all quite with a look on your face like you have some big secret".

Reading was always my refuge, my safety blanket and books have always been my favorite companions. Since early childhood my experience of the world was one of over exposure and under positive stimulation. My view of people was that people are full of selfishness and hypocrisy. I didn’t want to get close to anyone; I either kept people at arms length or keep myself contained. I had a hard heart in those days. It’s hard for me to really remember the way I felt in those days. I don’t think I felt much other that whatever reaction was elicited by the moment at hand. After reading "The Labyrinth of Solitude" I was inspired to visit Mexico City where I felt fully alive. The smells, the poverty, the colors, the hustle and bustle of a crowded city that was foreign to me woke my spirit up. I started to come out of my self preservation shell a little more. The other books that woke me up to take action towards a more fully engaged life were of course "The Brother's Karamazov" by Dostoevsky and "On Becoming a Person" by the existentialist phsycotherapist Carl Rogers.

During the later part of last year I saw a PBS special on famous concert pianist Glenn Gould. He was one of those solitary geniuses that were made rather uncomfortable by fame. Later on in his life he did a wonderfully brilliant radio series where we would overlay narration and interviews blending and sometimes all going at the same time. They are a challenge to listening skills and of fascinating content. He said that his radio productions were the closet thing to an autobiography he would every release. The Solitude Trilogy http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Solitude_Trilogy  is particularly beautiful and struck a cord with me.

To this day I have a great need for solitude to rejuvenate and process life. I find now that it just naturally happens when it’s needed as appose to defensively shutting out the world on purpose. Usually during that time I get more rest, read more, meditate more and visit with family more. I’m also usually less expressive or talkative in general. Also what has changed is that I remain emotionally available should anyone happen to need me or want to engage in a real way. I’m fortunate enough to have the luxury of rest and repose but even if I were married with children I think it would be necessary to my equilibrium to find even a small amount of time for solitude.

There have been times in my life that I’ve envied nuns, yogis, monks, and country side hermits but eventually that social butter fly started fluttering about in me. Profound existential malaise doesn’t have to be a place to be stuck in. Even Sartre felt you could grow beyond it. Some see the Zen practice as nihilistic but I don't agree. The bible says “Come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest a while”. I read once "If there were no God do you have the courage to still see the beauty in life and find personal meaning in it?", it was food for thought. For those that believe "And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God." Intentional solitude does not have to include a heavy heart or feelings of loneliness. Weariness and loneliness come in cycles but an enduring loss of love for life and feeling isolated is indicative of a hemorrhaging heart. Do what you need to do to stop the bleeding no matter how crazy you're perceived.