Alexandersmap

    Tag: Fernando Pessoa

    • Creating Amongst the Foolish

      “Are these sandcastles my triumphs? Of what divine substance are castles that are not sandcastles made?” — Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet

      “A child knows that the doll is not real, and yet he or she treats it as real, even weeping disconsolately when it breaks. The art of the child is that of making things unreal. Blessèd is that mischievous stage in life, when love is negated by the absence of sex, when reality is negated by play, treating as real things that are not. Let me return to childhood and stay there forever, caring nothing for the values that grown men give to things or for the relationships that grown men establish between them.” — Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet

      There are many ways to navigate the world. We can feel in control of our fate or feel like it’s all meaningless anyway and float through life without agency. Existentialism vs. nihilism (with an assist from nihilism’s close friend absurdism). Pessoa leaned closer to nihilism and absurdism for my existentialist tastes, but I know that the truth lies somewhere in between our strongest beliefs on either side. So two quotes from Fernando to kick us off.

      We may believe that the world is currently being run by children playing with toys. That the adults have been kicked to the curb and we’re entering a regressive period in our collective history. Looking around, it’s easy to get caught up in the childish absurdity of people in positions of power. We must recognize that they’re building their sandcastles and one day they will all be swept away like the grains of sand that they are. Planet Earth and the universe beyond it will continue indifferently without any of us.

      The existentialist in me believes we ought to carry on discovering our own meaning and purpose anyway. To create beauty in a world craving it, even as the nihilists work to tear down those old castles. Where they favor chaos, we may find deeper meaning in creating order within our own lives, or at least within our own minds. Remember Viktor Frankl:

      “Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.”

      As I was writing this, I thought I’d see what artificial intelligence would do in this instance. ChatGPT offered an answer so aligned with my way of thinking that I thought I’d simply quote it verbatim. Here it is:

      “An existentialist in a world dominated by nihilists would likely focus on three key things:

      1. Personal Meaning and Authenticity – While nihilists might argue that life is inherently meaningless, an existentialist would counter that meaning is something individuals must create for themselves. They would emphasize living authentically, making choices that reflect personal values rather than succumbing to the indifference of nihilism.
      2. Freedom and Responsibility – Existentialists believe that individuals are free to shape their own lives, but with that freedom comes responsibility. In a nihilistic world where others may see no reason to act ethically or strive for purpose, an existentialist would insist that each person is responsible for defining and upholding their own values.
      3. Engagement and Action – Rather than retreating into despair or apathy (which nihilism can sometimes encourage), an existentialist would advocate for active engagement with life. Whether through art, relationships, or personal projects, they would see action as a means of affirming existence despite the lack of inherent meaning.

      Essentially, where nihilism sees a void, existentialism sees an opportunity to create.”

      The thing is, I don’t believe the world is full of nihilists. I do believe that they’re dominating the conversation now, having ascended to positions of power where they can kick down the castles built by others. It’s best to take the long view in such moments as this. Instead of focusing all of one’s energy on reacting to the castles they’ve kicked down, build a new one, stronger than the one before.

      Remember Whitman’s poem amidst the nihilism and strife of his time:

      Oh me! Oh life! of the questions of these recurring,
      Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish,
      Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
      Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renew’d,
      Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me,
      Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,
      The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?
      Answer.
      That you are here—that life exists and identity,
      That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.
      — Walt Whitman, O Me! O Life!

      Here we are, the existentialists amongst the endless trains of the faithless and foolish. What are we to do in such a world? Create, friend. Create beauty in this maddening world. Carry the torch, that others may find their way too. For this too shall pass. The powerful play will go on.

    • The Beauty in Useful

      “Why is art beautiful? Because it is useless. Why is life ugly? Because it is all aims and purposes and intentions…. The beauty of ruins? The fact that they were no longer of any use. The sweetness of the past? Being able to remember it, because to remember the past is to make it the present again, and the past is not and cannot be the present — the absurd, my love, the absurd.” — Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet

      “My father said to me, ‘Be useful.’ Useful not only to yourself, but useful to your neighborhood, your country, the world. It entails everything.” — Arnold Schwarzenegger, from Men’s Health

      If art is beautiful because it’s useless, does that same criteria apply to a lifetime? What make life beautiful anyway? Is it spontaneity and happenstance or structure and purpose? Doesn’t a lifetime require a bit of both?

      When we systematize our lives we are adding routines that sustain us and increase our effectiveness. Routines don’t have to mean our lives are routine. If a purposeful and intentional life is an ugly life to Pessoa, I would argue it shines a light on our lives, making them more beautiful. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, after all. A painter may find rigid conformity to accepted rules ugly and confining, while an architect or structural engineer finds great beauty in the very same rule.

      We are, each of us, mere memories in the making. What will make our lives beautiful is largely up to us, and it may inspire others. Usefulness is a ripple across time and space. It magnifies our presence into something tangible. Whether we swim in a small pond or a vast ocean, we make a ripple. Done well, a lifetime can be quite beautiful indeed. And isn’t our lifetime our most essential work of art?

    • The Story Continues

      “Nothing in my past life fills me with the vain desire to repeat it. I have never been anything more than a mere vestige, a simulacrum of myself. My past is everything I never managed to become. Not even the feelings associated with past moments make me nostalgic; what one feels is of the moment; once that is past the page turns and the story continues, but not the text.” — Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet

      I confess that reading Pessoa is a struggle for me. I am a different person than he was, trying to engage with the world and not just be a witness to it. Still, I press on with his book, off and on, working to finish it one of these days. James Joyce said that life is too short to read a bad book, and I generally subscribe to that theory. The thing is, I don’t believe that The Book of Disquiet is a bad book, it’s just not a book that resonates with me at this moment. Yet here I am, quoting it anyway, precisely because some of what he writes does indeed resonate with me. Perhaps that’s enough in the end.

      If you could, would you repeat a chapter of your life? When you think back on who you were at the time, would you do it again? In a life well-lived I should think you’d consider it for a beat or two. I might go back to a time of peak fitness and all the time in the world. But what is the trade-off? Would you do it all again the same way, or would you stray off the path into something different? It’s easy to remember the best of ourselves, but what of the worst?

      Give me today, thank you. Give me the next chapter of this story, not the earlier chapters that merely set the stage for who I’ve become. There’s nothing to the past but faded memories and the things that got away from us. We can only do something meaningful with today, building on the momentum that brought us here. Life is a progression, not a regression. Our best days may yet be ahead of us.

    • The Grand Accumulation

      “The value of things is not in the duration, but in the intensity in which they occur. This is why there are unforgettable moments, inexplicable things and incomparable people. ” — Fernando Pessoa

      Experiences matter a great deal in moving us. For this reason seeking diverse and rich experiences in our lives moves us a great deal farther along the path to becoming than limited experiences do, but it all counts. We are what we repeatedly do (and I repeatedly use Aristotle’s quote in this blog as a reminder to myself), so we ought to do things that move us in the direction we aspire to go.

      The question of value is appropriate to ask ourselves. Just why do we value certain things more than others? Is a dinner at a Michelin-level fancy restaurant a greater experience than eating an apple on the summit of a mountain you’ve struggled to reach? One can make a case for the apple without diminishing the value of the restaurant experience. Each resonates in their own way. Each may be savored. Each counts towards completing our picture.

      Experiences may pull us up or drag us down, so we must be diligently aware of the collection of experiences that, stacked together, make up our lives. With value as a lens, we may be selective in the experiences we seek, the things we collect and the people we associate with. If this sounds rather elitist, it’s just the opposite. We can be inclusive and open in our engagement with the world, while prioritizing the moments that resonate most deeply for us.

      When we think back on the days gone by, what moments shine particularly brightly? Usually it’s something surprisingly ordinary, amplified by something unique, like a chance encounter with an old friend, a beautiful vista earned with a hike or early rise, an unusual bird at the feeder, a line from a poem that floored us, a new song that we’ll forever associate with the moment we heard it. These are highlight moments amongst the ordinary prose of life.

      Still, we can make a case for ordinary too. The ordinary is the foundation from which the extraordinary rises. With each extraordinary moment, layered ever higher one upon the next, our foundation also rises. This grand accumulation of moments, things and the people we surround ourselves with may just lead to an unforgettable life. Perhaps even we ourselves will reach incomparable. Too bold? Add another layer. It won’t be such a reach.

    • Eternal Sunrise

      Having been married awhile, my bride and I know each other’s tendencies. She rolls her eyes at me when she sees me watching YouTube videos of faraway places. I’ve got a regular playlist of places I’d like to go that I visit regularly, and virtually tag along with friends as they sail around the world. She anticipates my travel proposals well before I open my mouth. In turn, I roll my eyes when I hear her turn on home improvement shows, and feel like I live in one for all the projects her viewing inspires.

      There’s an undercurrent of restlessness that flows through many of us, wanted more in our time, whatever that “more” happens to be. In the best of times it’s positive and productive. Perhaps improvement on our lot in life or progress towards a personal goal. In the worst of times it might inspire jealousy and betrayal. Look around at the world, it’s easy to see examples of both.

      The question of how we’re perceived, or how we perceive ourselves, begs to be answered. The world is very good at showing us what’s possible with the right mix of resourcefulness and boldness. For all the cries for instant gratification in media, in reality most of us simply chip away at things until we get there. We can become some version of who we choose to be over time, but we must apply patient action.

      “The feelings that hurt most, the emotions that sting most, are those that are absurd – The longing for impossible things, precisely because they are impossible; nostalgia for what never was; the desire for what could have been; regret over not being someone else; dissatisfaction with the world’s existence. All these half-tones of the soul’s consciousness create in us a painful landscape, an eternal sunset of what we are.” — Fernando Pessoa

      At what point is enough enough? When are we satiated and content with our share, pushing our proverbial plate away? This seems to be the moment where we embrace bliss. Change will always happen, we just learn to focus on what we can control and find happiness there. The rest is just an entertainment of ideas.

      For us, the nest is always being improved upon, even as we try to fly away from it. Sometimes we go, but we always return. Both the nest and the residents of it change over time. This is our eternal sunrise, as we are forever becoming something new, embracing change as it rises before us.

    • Be Whole

      To be great, be whole;
      Exclude nothing, exaggerate nothing that is not you.
      Be whole in everything. Put all you are
      Into the smallest thing you do.
      So, in each lake, the moon shines with splendor
      Because it blooms up above.
      — Fernando Pessoa, Poems of Fernando Pessoa

      An early morning. Out the door long before the dawn brought me deep into the heart of New York City commuter traffic. I still tell myself that this is the price of greatness, something I’ve told my children more than they want to hear, something I don’t always want to hear myself. Yet it still applies, and should for a lifetime. For don’t we owe it to ourselves to put all we are into everything we do?

      The price of greatness is consistently showing up and doing the things we know deep down that we must do. We might never reach greatness even paying the price, but we’ll surely get closer than we might otherwise. Mostly, we honor a commitment to ourselves to at least reach for it. Without this honor, we aren’t quite whole are we? We’re incomplete because we left something of ourselves out of our work. We owe ourselves something more. To be whole.