“The Experiencing Subject”, etc. (286-290)
Welcome to Fragmentarium! Each issue contains five fragments of text that can be read independently of one another. However, all of the fragments are connected (from #1 onward), so the more of them you read, the more whole they will become.
286. The Experiencing Subject
We measure and evaluate and judge. We distinguish and classify and categorize. We hypothesize and test and infer. By doing these things repeatedly, we construct a perfectly objective world that we can perfectly understand and perfectly control.
We use our understanding and our control to make ourselves happy. We see lack in our lives, and we focus on it like a problem to be solved. We reason that by increasing whatever is lacking, we will improve our well-being, and when nothing is lacking we will finally be happy. Then all of our desires will be satisfied, our aversions vanquished, and our beliefs confirmed.
It is this state of objective perfection that we seek. We want to be the perfect human animal, the one that has optimized its environment through control and thrives endlessly as a result. But in focusing completely on this singular goal, we miss something important. We forget to ask who it is that will thrive.
A human being is not just an animal that exists as an object in physical space. A human being is also an experiencing subject. And the difficulty with experiencing subjects is that they reflect on their experiences and they develop values. They see some things as good and other things as bad, not because of any objective evidence, but simply because of their own individual judgments.
We can judge that things are good for us even when we have been shown that they are objectively bad. But in what sense can anything be objectively bad? To construct our objective standard we have optimized for certain metrics. But why should we choose those particular metrics or optimize in that particular way?
It is only by submitting to a narrow group of subjectively-chosen values that we have arrived at the idea that there can be anything objectively good for a human being. The source of the judgments that have produced our objective standard cannot be anything other than subjective. No one has measured, judged, categorized, tested, or reasoned about human beings who was not also a human being. A purely objective view of life is not possible. To live more joyfully, we must consider our lives from the perspective of the experiencing subjects we also are.
287. Beyond Hypocrisy
It can be frustrating to see someone do something opposite to their earlier actions or stated beliefs. We want the people around us to be consistent. We want to be able to understand their motives and beliefs. We want their actions to be predictable and orderly.
We expect people to be rational and their actions to follow a consistent set of principles. When we discover something that contradicts those principles, we criticize their behaviour. We expect the other to be responsive to our critique, for we feel they ought to value consistency just as we do.
When we point out instances of clear hypocrisy — where actions directly contradict previously demonstrated beliefs — we expect an explanation to be provided and changes to be made. When these are not forthcoming, our frustration increases. We cannot understand how the other is unable to see the problem we are seeing.
But pointing out hypocrisy is the worst kind of criticism. It shifts the focus to mere consistency, rather than concentrating on the goodness (or lack thereof) of the actions themselves. For consistency is irrelevant when it comes to assessing whether or not particular actions are good ones. By focusing on hypocrisy, we waste our energy on petulant critiques that make us feel superior instead of trying to address the causes of wrongdoing.
People act wrongly because they are suffering. We may not be sufficiently sensitive to suffering to notice every occurrence of it, but this does not mean it is not present. We want people to act rationally but they cannot because they are distracted by their own suffering and the desire to escape from it. To defeat wrongdoing, we we must first overcome suffering, and we can only do so through compassionate action.
Furthermore, compassion itself sometimes requires that we act inconsistently. A compassionate response is always attuned to the particular situation and needs of the present moment. What is compassionate today might entirely contradict what was compassionate yesterday.
In the end, it is our desire for perfect consistency that must be met with skepticism. Like any desire, attachment to it will produce suffering. By attempting to fulfill it, we become distracted from what is needed and we end up perpetuating the very suffering we need to overcome.
288. Something More
I’m feeling spiritless as I stand at the window, looking out at the world. There are people walking on the sidewalk down below. Many are alone, like me, but moving briskly towards destinations unknown. Others are in pairs or small groups, some talking and some not. The faster ones are passing the slower, sometimes even stepping off the sidewalk and into the street to complete the maneuver.
I pick out one person from the mass. He’s walking with a leisurely stride. What’s his story? I decide that he lives in the neighbourhood, in a building just like this one. I decide that he has a one-bedroom apartment that he shares with two cats and zero humans. I decide that he has just been at the library where he was perusing books on eighteenth-century philosophers. Obviously this is only a fantasy.
I look around again and I see two people walking together, towards the heart of the city. Perhaps they are going to meet their friends downtown, or perhaps they are looking to get something to eat nearby. They are engaged in an animated conversation. I cannot hear any of what they are saying — for me, this is a silent play. It’s a good one, however, as they’re now both laughing, and I find myself laughing too.
I suddenly feel the desire to be down there, in the street, observing the action more closely. No it’s not that, I realize. I don’t want to merely observe. My desire is different. I want to be walking somewhere. Somewhere away from here. Not with any particular direction or destination, just away. Or just walking, maybe.
I want to allow myself to go wherever I will go. I try to imagine myself doing this. Descending the stairs, going out into the crisp air, and then just walking and walking. I remember the times I’ve done something like this before. I don’t think I’d feel any different than I do right now.
How do I feel? I don’t know but it’s not good. It’s not away that I want. It’s not walking either. There must be something more, but I cannot seem to say what it is.
289. To Be Surpassed
For every historical artwork that is still revered and loved, there are countless others that now receive little attention or are seen only as minor stepping stones to something that came after. While these impressive works once garnered much appreciation and applause, they are now basically forgotten.
Realizing this, we might worry that a similar fate will befall our own greatest achievements. If even the most significant masterpieces are likely to be relegated to the dustbin of history, what point could there possibly be to our own creative efforts?
But to be surpassed is no failure. We will not have failed even if the collective output of our era becomes nothing more than a pile of dirt our successors climb to greater heights. For to contribute to the project of humanity in any way is a great accomplishment, and to create art that might one day become the tools and materials that help future artists make something even better is an enormous success.
At present, our awareness is still occluded. Our attachments prevent us from seeing broadly and from fully exploring the possibilities that are present and available to us. To be forever stuck at this level of awareness would be a disaster for humanity. It would mean not only that creativity would no longer be feasible but that we would cease to be alive altogether. For life itself is nothing other than this continuous surpassing, this continuous growth, this continuous movement towards greater seeing and greater creation.
That everything we make will be surpassed is invaluable evidence of life’s incredible success. It means that others will have seen what we saw and also what we did not see and they will have incorporated this new awareness into their art. The project of humanity must and will always go farther than it has gone before, for our shared purpose is none other than to see more and to act on that seeing.
290. The Paradox Of Compassion
To act from compassion, I need to be engaged with everything that is happening, both in me and out in the world, but without being attached to any of it. I need to be connected to everything but also separate from it. It is in this paradoxical state that I must live.
As I experience the world, I automatically form desires, aversions, and beliefs. These intentions are neither good nor bad in themselves, but if I become attached to them, I will start to suffer. I will suffer because my attention is constrained to achieving my intended ideals and this prevents me from meeting my needs and the needs of the people around me.
The suffering produced by attachment not only consumes energy, but also limits my ability to respond to what is happening. To be compassionate, I need to be sensitive to everything and everyone. Such sensitivity is not possible when I am profoundly attached because my attention and actions will be concentrated on satisfying my desires, fleeing from my aversions, and confirming my beliefs.
Compassionate action requires that I be fully present and responsive to what is happening, while also maintaining the distance that allows me to remain free of attachment. There is no escaping the paradoxical nature of compassion, and perhaps the most challenging problem of awareness is to see that this paradox is livable and that I can adopt this seemingly contradictory position.
To be capable of seeing this, I must first see the nature of my own suffering, how it arises from attachment, and how it can also end. I must also see that it is possible for me to relinquish control and allow myself to respond intuitively to what I perceive in the world and in myself.
Compassion therefore requires enormous trust. I have to trust that the intuitions I’ve developed through years of experience will guide me well and that the actions that follow from them will be good ones. In every moment, I must be both free and engaged, flexible and determined, detached and connected. It is from this paradoxical position that my actions will be most compassionate and help to create joy for myself and others.