Existential Authenticity

Well, I’m more than halfway through my existential year. I’ve contemplated a variety of aspects of my life, and I’ve tried to open up my ruminations to you, my readers (mostly friends and family, according to Substack). I’m somewhere in the middle of my life (I hope), and I’m somewhere in the middle of this writing journey. So, as I questioned in my last post, how can I live more authentically, and why is authenticity even important?

According to true-blue, black beret-wearing, espresso-sipping existentialists, authenticity comes when you don’t lie to yourself or others. The atheistic branch of existentialism I've been exploring posits that because we are “condemned to be free” (Sartre), we must embrace the challenge of this freedom and create our own values and meaning in a universe that has no inherent meaning. If we simply adopt the systems that we are born into and let others dictate our values, we are living inauthentically — we haven’t examined our lives, and we are living a lie that others have created for us.

Living authentically sounds very brave, but it’s also very individualistic. To me, it doesn’t seem to fully acknowledge that we are standing on the shoulders of giants. I am thinking and speaking in the context of a language and culture I didn’t develop, and all of my ideas have been thought by people before me; if I’m lucky, I can combine some words and ideas to retell old stories in a contemporary way. The speaker of The Odyssey asks the Muse to sing through him, and I ask the same thing when I sit down to write. I’m using our common language, and whatever words and sentences emerge don’t really belong to me once they’re out there — and this idea is from the great Jorge Luis Borges (you should read Labyrinths if you haven’t already).

Nevertheless, I want to live authentically. Where does this begin, and where am I on this journey? As there is some truth in most cliches, living authentically has to begin in this moment. I have to taste the coffee I’m drinking rather than just planning my day, and I have to feel my fingers on the keyboard. Meditation shows us how difficult this is: once our “monkey minds” pick up language, we are constantly bombarded by thoughts, the voices in our heads. This is normal, and it’s perfectly fine; we just need to be aware that these thoughts come and go, and that we don’t always have to listen to what they have to say. It’s also reassuring to know that there is a rich world of experience that doesn’t need to be constrained by the little thoughts in my tiny skull. Right now, I can hear a bird singing, and I can feel the reassuring constancy of my breath. I can see the trees blooming outside my window, and I can feel how my muscles still have a little morning stiffness (time to do some yoga).

OK, yoga break over! It's time to don my beret and create my own values and meaning in this world. However, at age 55, my life should already reflect the values by which I live, right? And does it? Well, you can probably answer this better than I can. If you’re reading this, there’s a 98% chance you’re a friend or family member, and you probably see the truth of my life better than I see it. (I’m more likely to fool myself.) However… if I go back to my listicle of the ten things I’ve learned in life, the only things I’ve really learned are the importance of marriage and children (or in my case, my son). I’m still happily married, and I believe I have a good relationship with my son, so I must be doing OK. I am trying to live a life filled with love, and I can accept the decisions I’ve made around this priority.

Now, existentialists also thought we could live authentically by doing cool things like fighting fascism and thus creating humanistic meaning in our lives. I suppose my efforts in education were attempts to free the minds of my students by exposing them to great literature and important ideas. However, I was but a tiny part of their greater journeys; in the end, we all have to free our minds by ourselves, and literature is just one part of my personal journey. What about fighting fascism? I haven’t been the most political person, but I can live with that for now. In our current politically fractured country, I am trying to create a little oasis of peace and love for myself, my family, and my friends. From the outside, I imagine my life seems selfish: I ski, I bike, I read books, I take a Catherine Project class, and I try to write every week. However, the real sense of meaning I have in my life lies in the time I spend with family and friends. I suppose books and exercise nurture my mind and body, while friends, family, and nature nurture my soul. I want to add something to the happiness of others, and I hope my personal happiness makes that possible.

Well, I had planned to dig further into The Stranger, but it looks like that will have to wait until next week. In the meantime, may we all capture some joie de vivre and live authentically!