Category: Philosophy

  • The Pretentiousness of Self-Doubt

    Self-doubt, it seems, is insecurity cloaked in anxiety. It occurred to me one morning on my way to work this week that each time I witnessed someone in the throes of an anxiety attack, there was an underlying sense of grave insecurity that left them helpless to deal with even fleeting thoughts of burdens they couldn’t stand the thought of bearing.

    This same pretentiousness drives me to write, or to ramble. This pretence that if I spew these words, it will relieve me of the burden of realisation that accompany them. It doesn’t. I read, quite uninterestedly, the numerous reminders about death. Reminders intended to spur us into action before that moment arrives when we stare inevitability in the face pleading for one more chance to do everything we always promised ourselves we’d do before we got old. But those reminders don’t remind me, they only taunt me.

    They taunt me because they remind me not of death, but rather of my eager anticipation of it since my youngest years. And as I grew older, I grew more tired of the wait and the anguish of not knowing when. When I was 22, I revelled in the deep-seated certainty that I would not live beyond 23, and so I immersed myself in this promise of tomorrow not always holding true. Until I lived beyond that age and felt cheated out of the promise of peace.

    But this is not about death. Nor is it about life. It’s about the lies we tell ourselves for so long that eventually we even convince others that it’s true about us. It starts out with a simple insecurity, or a simple doubt about something inconsequential, but usually larger than life because of the audience rather than the deed. It starts out when we’re unconsciously focused on how we’re to be seen by another, instead of how capable we are. That’s when the paralysing fear of incompetence sets in and convinces us that it’s safer to hold back, than it is to push forward because ridicule is far more painful than an insignificant success.

    And so the circle of doubt is formed. There are many that nurture it to the point of debilitation, while others stop short at instant gratification. Instantly gratifying themselves with puny accomplishments and denying themselves the opportunity to excel beyond mediocrity. More than the debilitated ones, I pity the mediocre amongst us. They hinder us in our quest for excellence or fulfilment, because they’re always pandering to the accolades of the feeble minded. Meanwhile, their appearance of confidence in their mediocre endeavours feed that self-doubt until they reach a point in life when the lies are just not convincing any longer. That’s when the fear of being discovered lurks just beneath the skin of the faces of those pretending to be the shadow of their true selves.

    Most of us will die never realising our true potential. Worse still, most of us will die not having anyone believe in our true potential. That we will die is inevitable. That we will live is highly doubtful.

    My sincerest condolences to the sorry soul that can relate to the incoherent rant that I just attempted to disguise as a meaningful post.

  • Knowledge

    A little knowledge makes you arrogant,

    A lot of knowledge makes you humble.

    ~ Cynically Jaded

  • That Thing Called Free Will

    It occurred to me tonight that it is entirely in the interests of atheists to discount, or at least attempt to disprove the reality of free will. In the absence of free will, it’s easy to argue that our actions and decisions are nothing more than elaborate sequences of instinctive behaviour hard wired into our brains. The more we experience, the greater our ability to present individuality because of the increased variables that influence our behaviour.

    However, such a theory falls far short of explaining the reason why we are able to actively and consciously choose between multiple outcomes of equal benefit. It also fails to address the reason behind us being able to consciously act against our instinctive responses. In fact, in the absence of free will, can we even claim to be conscious beings? Being conscious, being aware, being lucid all imply that there is an intelligence that allows us to acquire, grasp, and process information, and then do something meaningful, or at the least, something deliberate with that information. Even choosing not to act when action is prompted is further proof of this free will that we have.

    In considering all this, I find it somewhat amusing that many, especially atheists who pride themselves in being scientifically grounded, find it necessary to first prove that we have free will through scientific means despite the evidence that we live out on a daily basis that confirms our ability to choose independent of instinct.

    It reminds me of the ridiculous approach that we take towards life and health these days. For centuries we’ve known that chicken soup is healthy and aids in our recovery from cold or flu symptoms. Yet it was denounced by the ‘scientifically adept’ community of health professionals because no scientist took the time to understand and therefore prove the benefit that it provides. Don’t believe me? Read this. Yet if I were to take every atheist and scientist seriously, I’d have to discard the wisdom of the ages that was not grounded in scientific research, and wait patiently for them to come up with remedies that actually deal with the root causes of illnesses rather than their creative ways of dealing with the symptoms instead.

    Atheists, in all my discussions with them to date, have proven to be extremely myopic in their view of the world. They insist that their independence of religious dogma (which can also be argued to be a false notion of theirs) raises them above the ‘sheep’ that subscribe to theistic scriptures and principles. If I were to take the example of the chicken soup a step further, such a simple matter that took scientists possibly millennia to figure out benefited millions of people in the meantime. How? Through simple observation and common sense. So to apply this to the concept of creation, and therefore a creator, why should I abandon my belief system in there being a god until such time as some scientist in a distant time and place is able to confirm what I knew all along through simple observation and common sense?

    It simply doesn’t make sense, does it? The atheistic mind set that is. Abandon all knowledge unless scientifically proven and acquired, and collaborate with your peers to determine what is best for society because morality has no divine basis. The argument is so flawed that it’s almost entirely ludicrous.

    Oh, in my ramblings I forgot to make the point I started out trying to make. Why is it convenient for atheists to discount free will? Simple. If we have free will, it implies intelligent design. Intelligent design implies intelligent creation. And, you guessed it, intelligent creation implies an intelligent creator. It all flies in the face of the parts of the theories of evolution that suggests that we simply evolved into intelligent beings after originating from a single celled amoeba, or some crock like that. Even that single celled amoeba has a specific function and purpose, and I challenge any atheist to explain what cause an amoeba to be an amoeba. And when they explain that, I’d like to hear them explain what causes the cause of the amoeba to be an amoeba to be the cause of the cause of the amoeba. See how ridiculous infinite regression and the insane theories of causality can be?

    Yet atheists fancy themselves as being the only intelligent free thinking beings around. I beg to differ.

  • Atheists and Me

    It’s disappointing, yet almost unsurprising to note that the very same behaviour atheists accuse theists of, they’re guilty of themselves. I was recently invited into a closed group on Facebook with the assurance that it was a mature environment in which constructive and objective debates are held to test the various views of either side in order to seek to understand each other better. Again, unsurprisingly, the kind of attacks and arrogance that I encountered on other blog sites prevailed there as well.

    There are few, and I mean few that actually do try to present a well considered view of various issues and despite how lengthy the debates can be at times, they stick to the point, and don’t turn it into a mud slinging match in their efforts to try to bully the theist into agreement or submission. It appears that the lack of maturity that atheists are quick to criticise in theists is just as common place amongst their own ranks. Their insistence on not subscribing to a formal structure or singular view of their atheistic philosophy is starting to appear as extremely convenient because it allows the perpetual graceful exit that suggests that they’re not organised religion, and they have no dogma.

    Engage with any number of atheists and the dogma disguised as science is quick to show through. The assumed arrogance and selective qualifications of their statements is forced as the only reasonable approach to the subject when issues like infinite regression and impossible-to-prove theories are highlighted. There’s a stubborn claim that science is all that matters, but a quick deflection when questioned about how science deals with spirituality, or the spiritual needs of their communities. Blatant assumptions are made about the ideology of the first man/woman that set foot on this earth despite there being no proof to confirm it either way. So claims that we are inherently atheistic are supposed to be believed and accepted without question by theists, although atheist have no way of proving this. We’re supposed to accept blindly that infinite regression questions based on their own theories of causality do not apply beyond the current time and universe constructs, even though there is no objective authoritative source to confirm this, which makes it just another theory.

    Authoritative source is dismissed when asked to present one, since such a thing does not exist. The absence of this resulting in personal biases and theories being the order of the day appear to be accepted as factually accurate amongst their ranks, although there are very few that are willing to acknowledge that this glaring gap in their rationale does suggest that there must be a cause that set the creation of this universe in motion. What that cause is, or what form it takes, is entirely open to conjecture for obvious reasons.

    So the sum total of my experiences to date is that the very same extremism, rigidity, blind faith and dogma that atheists claim plagues religion is very much rampant in their own circles. Trying to find a middle ground, at this point, appears to be a pointless endeavour. But I am the anal optimist, so I will persevere for a while longer before I decide if throwing in the towel is as inconsequential as persevering in my efforts to understand the rationale of the atheistic mind set. In fact, I don’t think it’s an attempt to understand the rationale, because I’m already quite convinced that that is as flawed as any argument a theist can present to prove the existence of God. If it was possible to prove the existence of God, we would not need faith to believe in God because the proof would render faith irrelevant. Unfortunately this is a point that many theists and atheists alike fail to understand.

    The fact remains that atheists cannot, with hard evidence, disprove the existence of God, and theists cannot prove it either. But until they get past this blatantly obvious fact, and set aside the arrogance that accompanies such a debate, not much progress will be made in finding mutual understanding, respect or common ground between the two.

  • Self-imposed humiliation is more palatable than suffering humiliation at the hands of others

  • Is this the real life…

    I’ve been faced with a daunting realisation these last few days. Perhaps I’m not so average after all. I’m not better, nor am I worse, but I’m starting to realise that I’m probably just fundamentally different. This may sound like a romantic notion to some, but to me this is potentially life altering. The reason it has such an impact on me is because it calls to question every observation or piece of advice that I ever offered anyone. If my disposition and point of departure is so significantly different from most others, it means that my criticisms and insights are distinctly biased and potentially useless for most of the people that I ever engage with.

    These are troubling thoughts for someone that has found much comfort in being able to offer advice to others so that they may avoid the mistakes that I’ve made. But this realisation now suggests that my mistakes are not likely to be repeated by others because I am not part of the normal crowd. I guess in many ways I’ve been resisting this realisation all my life. I’ve thought of myself as normal but different. Now I just think I’m different, and I’m not sure I grasp the concept of normal at all. I doubt I ever did.

    My ability to detach my emotions from reason is a quirk not appreciated by most. It helps in times of crisis, but it causes me to look distinctly uninterested and often annoyed when others are freaking out while I fail to see a reason to freak out just yet. Given that most people don’t live in true crisis mode all the time, it makes this skill of mine somewhat tedious to deal with. And surrounding myself with people that are in fact living in crisis mode continually will just drain the last drop of optimism from my gut. So I guess I’m in limbo.

    Silence is the only comfort I seem to enjoy these days. Everything else demands a presence of mind and a demand of my attention that has become quite an effort. I’m distracted most of the time with thoughts of…everything. What was, what is, what might be, what might not be, what could have been, what should have been, what I’m glad hasn’t been, and it goes on. It goes on painfully and tediously. But through it all I’ve managed to remain somewhat functional and able to offer some purpose in my presence. The more I experience, the more jaded is my response to life.

    Is this what a mid-life crisis feels like? No, it can’t be. If it were, it would negate the realisation that prompted this post to begin with. I look at others my age and I struggle to relate to their frame of mind. In some ways I relate to the mind set of those 15 years my junior, but I find myself at odds with how they approach their sense of purpose in  life. I’m disjointed from society, from the community, and often from my family. But I’ve been revelling in that disjointedness until now under the misconception of it having been a valuable skill that allowed me to view the world with a fresh perspective.

    Who was I fooling all this time? I’m cynically jaded. There is no fresh perspectives for a jaded one. Suddenly Bohemian Rhapsody is mocking me.

  • I think you're intelligent and you're opinionated. You also like to make sure everyone knows it too, not just with your wide vocabulary but because of how you carry yourself. You like to stand out and you also refuse to be a part of "The Sheep Herd" and so you choose to do everything different. You always strive for perfection and you get very upset when things don't meet your standards. So when you struggle in life, you become frustrated and you start to reevaluate everything.

    Thank you for your candidness. There’s very few people, unless they’re trying to get the better of me, that offer such candid feedback. So I really appreciate it. I understand completely why you, and many others, would get such an impression of me, and I guess that’s been the struggle of my life. Getting people to understand where I’m coming from rather than what appears to be my motives. 

    I’m always surprised at comments about my use of language because like I said in previous posts, I don’t read that much. Most of the reading I do is online, and that’s usually articles of interests, blogs, or news items. 

    I am opinionated, but the motivation for being so is not as obvious as most may think. I actually hate being the centre of attention. It makes me awkward and self-conscious. But I love challenging people’s ideas and views because so few people take a critical view of themselves. We’re conditioned to believe that being critical is a negative thing, when in fact it’s the root of growth. In my opinion anyway. 🙂

    I don’t strive for perfection. I’m incredibly lazy to be honest. So in my laziness, and my idealism, I get easily frustrated when I see someone doing something in 10 steps when it can be done in 2. Simplistically, that is what drives my behaviour and my attitude. It’s my desire to simplify things, to avoid unnecessary effort, and to do more with less. When we complicate things, we waste energy and create issues that take up valuable time. 

    I know this all must sound so clichéd, but the truth is that I have got death on my mind most of the time. So when I see people exhausting themselves over things that may be inconsequential to the outcome of their lives, or to the legacy that they need to leave behind (not related to wealth), then I grow impatient with them because I want them to focus on what’s important instead. At least what I have found to be important based on my life’s experiences. 

    I don’t like exhaustive circular debates, so I choose my words carefully most of the time because while responding to questions or criticisms, my mind is automatically jumping two steps ahead in trying to pre-empt what my response may prompt. So I end up explaining myself two steps ahead just to prevent an unnecessary debate. It’s difficult to explain really, but I think it stems from my work in the legal space regarding drafting of contracts between organisations.

    I think it’s my exposure to dishonest people in the work place, and in life, and the bad after taste of dealing with them is what drives me to be so pedantic at times. It’s an arrogant desire to want to shut them up decisively so that they have no graceful exit from the conversation at all. But it takes a lot to push me to the point where I respond so callously towards someone. 

    So I guess what I’m trying to say is that I don’t try to do anything differently, nor do I like to attract undue attention to myself. I just grow easily frustrated with people living unconsciously and I’m naive enough to believe that people in general are as driven as I am to improve the way they do things. So I volunteer my opinion or advice which is often misconstrued as arrogance. But I can’t help myself. 

  • Choices

    The brain numbing effects of medication is scary. Ever since I took a mood stabiliser and an anti-depressant a few years ago, I’ve been hyper-sensitive to side effects in other medication that may have the slightest influence on moods or anxiety levels. The knee jerk reaction of most people that I mention this to is to suggest that the symptoms are entirely psychosomatic. However, they’re wrong every time because they say that on the assumption that I read the insert of the medication before taking it. I don’t. I usually take the medication, then observe the changes in my moods and behaviours (I’m weird like that) and then, if I can’t explain the changes, I go searching for answers. 

    This week I’ve been in bed with a combination of the flu, pharyngitis and a touch of bronchitis. The previous time this happened, the anti-biotic that was prescribed for me by my doctor caused me to get really aggressive and short-tempered. I only realised it after three days had passed, at which point I promptly reviewed the side-effects, honed in on the potential impact, and discontinued the anti-biotic (against my doctor’s advice since you are required to complete the course once started), and within a day or two, I felt my normal self again.

    This week, a different anti-biotic was prescribed, and on the first night that I took it, I had graphic nightmares and woke up almost every hour on the hour, or in between as well, with the nightmares continuing like a sequel each time I fell asleep. This was highly unusual for me. Again, against the advice of my doctor, I discontinued the course of anti-biotics and requested an alternative. The alternative is much better and the side-effects have been much more bearable. 

    When I share my views about depression and mood altering medication, I’m speaking from first hand experience, and never conjecture. The reasons I took those meds to begin with are anything but ordinary, so you would most likely be horribly mistaken if you tried to guess what it was. The effects of the medication this week is still wearing off, with the current course of anti-biotics set to run for a few more days. 

    This seems like a really pointless post, but there’s an uneasiness that I feel when I consider how lightly or readily most people take medication without any concern for the lasting impact it has on their health. I’m not the healthiest person around, but given some of my life’s experiences, more than one doctor expressed surprise at the fact that I have not had a major life event yet (that’s doctor speak for a heart attack, or something worse). The point is, we need to live consciously. Most people don’t. Most of the time we’re so focused on fitting in and conforming that we forget to think about what is or isn’t good for us. It’s the common herd mentality. Try to suggest that the herd is wrong, and I guess my recent abrasive discussions on Tumblr with some sheep clearly demonstrates what happens. You get bullied and maligned until you conform. I choose not to conform because I see how pathetic conformance makes others. 

    I guess this is just a really long-winded plea for people to start taking themselves more seriously. Rather than accepting whatever criticisms you get from others, spend time reflecting on your own principles, motivations and merits that drive you to be who you are. If the criticism confirms that, and you’re comfortable that that is who you choose to be, then great. You’re on the right track, even if it means that you’re the odd one out. If you compromise your principles in the hope of being more socially acceptable, you will, not maybe, not likely, but definitely will be setting yourself up for a whole lot of pain. 

    Our past only rules our hearts and minds as long as we’re oblivious to the fact that it is in fact the past.