Philosophical claptrap

[sauergeek]

Depending on who you ask, people are here for at least one of two commonly cited reasons. The religious will point at their particular religious traditions and beliefs, and say that people are here to worship whatever deity or deities they happen to favor. The scientific will point at the biological imperative, and say that people are here to make more people.

But for many -- myself included -- this is unsatisfying. Both systems imply that all people are fungible. Humans as a species don't much care if it's me making more humans, so long as sufficiently more humans get made to continue the species. And the deity (or deities) doesn't much care which people are worshiping -- if you worship, you're good, and if you don't, you're bad. There's no individuality in either system.

I've often wondered what I am here for. Neither religion nor biology can answer the question at the individual level. I have neither any idea what the answer to that question is, nor how to go about finding it out. I've felt for most of my life that I'm waiting to find out whatever it is I'm supposed to be doing here, so I can go about doing it. But just waiting for it to fall on my head is frustrating, and often feels pointless.

I've often heard about people getting a calling to do something or another. While that is a great thing for them, I've not had it happen myself, much as I'd like it to.

Does anyone here have any insight about divining an individual purpose? Or is the whole idea of searching for a purpose yet another exercise in pointless wankery, suitable only for late-night undergraduate bull sessions and mid-life crises?

Comments

[siderea]

Of course, addressing the question, What should I do with my life? isn't just a productivity issue: It's a moral imperative. It's how we hold ourselves accountable to the opportunity we're given. Most of us are blessed with the ultimate privilege: We get to be true to our individual nature. Our economy is so vast that we don't have to grind it out forever at jobs we hate. For the most part, we get to choose. That choice isn't about a career search so much as an identity quest. Asking The Question aspires to end the conflict between who you are and what you do. There is nothing more brave than filtering out the chatter that tells you to be someone you're not. There is nothing more genuine than breaking away from the chorus to learn the sound of your own voice. Asking The Question is nothing short of an act of courage: It requires a level of commitment and clarity that is almost foreign to our working lives.

-- Po Bronson

You want to read What Should I Do With My Life? by Po Bronson.

Here's something important from an essay by him, the one the above passage is from, about lessons learned from writing the book:

[...]

Smarts Can't Answer The Question

If the lockbox fantasy is a universal and eternal stumbling block when it comes to answering The Question, the idea that smarts and intensity are the essential building blocks of success and satisfaction is a product of the past decade. A set of twin misconceptions took root during the celebration of risk and speed that was the 90s startup revolution. The first is the idea that a smart, motivated individual with a great idea can accomplish anything. The corollary is that work should be fun, a thrill ride full of constant challenge and change.

Those assumptions are getting people into trouble. So what if your destiny doesn't stalk you like a lion? Can you think your way to the answer? That's what Lori Gottlieb thought. She considered her years as a rising television executive in Hollywood to be a big mistake. She became successful but felt like a fraud. So she quit and gave herself three years to analyze which profession would engage her brain the most. She literally attacked the question. She dug out her diaries from childhood. She took classes in photography and figure drawing. She interviewed others who had left Hollywood. She broke down every job by skill set and laid that over a grid of her innate talents. She filled out every exercise in What Color Is Your Parachute?

Eventually, she arrived at the following logic: Her big brain loved puzzles. Who solves puzzles? Doctors solve health puzzles. Therefore, become a doctor. She enrolled in premed classes at Pepperdine. Her med-school applications were so persuasive that every school wanted her. And then -- can you see where this is headed? -- Lori dropped out of Stanford Medical School after only two and a half months. Why? She realized that she didn't like hanging around sick people all day.

The point is, being smarter doesn't make answering The Question easier. Using the brain to solve this problem usually only leads to answers that make the brain happy and jobs that provide what I call "brain candy." Intense mental stimulation. But it's just that: candy. A synthetic substitute for other types of gratification that can be ultimately more rewarding and enduring. As the cop in East L.A. said of his years in management at Rockwell, "It was like cheap wood that burns too fast."

[continued]

[sauergeek.livejournal.com]

Thanks for the reference!