Having vs. Being

If you read the post where I got needlessly emotionally and philosophically invested in an animated T.V. show, you might remember the concept of Having vs. Being. In that case it was about romantic love, but the concept applies on a much wider view, and I don't think I really did it justice with that little blurb.

It may have become apparent, over all these posts, that I have kind of a touchy-feely idea about the underlying nature of people. I think I used phrases like "manifestation of the universe's underlying creative drive," and I wax constantly about the exalted potential of each individual person, and blah blah. The point is, I think people are inherently possessed of great potential, for better or worse.

Moreover, I think the underlying state of every single person's mind is naturally one of great calmness. The prevailing view is that humanity evolved (entirely or at least chiefly) in Africa. It's a place of great danger, sure. Our body's highly-developed fight-or-flight response is proof enough of that; people in ancient times were under regular threat from deadly disease or predation from creatures who were, as far as a singular purpose is concerned, more highly-evolved than we were (and are). Life was often simple, short, and messy in humanity's early years.

On the other hand, the entire natural world is filled with places of fantastic beauty, and Africa has some of the most beautiful of all. Evolution is a process of trade-offs, gains proportional to sacrifices, and I think one of the greatest losses humanity ever suffered was when we evolved awareness of the brevity of our own lifespan.

All that preface is leading into this: modern culture is obsessed with doing things; we've only got so much time, we need to leave an impression on the world before we go, so let's all gather the maximum number of awards and recognition and possessions. "Goal-oriented" is one way people refer to this focus on recognizable achievement and success of yourself and (importantly) those you associate with. I call it "pathological."

Still, the fact remains that our lives are busy. We do things, we buy groceries, we text people, we do homework. Now, there's something I want you to do, one more thing on the infinite list. What I want you to do is:

Nothing. Just sit, and don't do anything. As much as you can, don't think about anything. If you have to think about something, think about how you're sitting and how you're breathing. If you need a point to focus on, try to just push your sternum out a little bit, and sit a little straighter. Alternatively, just focus on not fidgeting, as you surely are by now. Nothing more.

If you decided to indulge my little exercise, you probably found it surprisingly difficult. We're incredibly used to juggling a huge number of things in our day-to-day life. There's a paper due in two days, and another next week. Work starts in three hours, and we have to get breakfast and go to the gym before that. Before that, we need to call our boss. Before that, we need to be sure we're getting enough sleep. Before that... well hell, now it's yesterday again, and there's a laundry list of things I forgot to do. Those of you who have kids, especially: y'all know.

This is all leading into one somewhat-belabored point. All the things you're juggling, all the feelings (positive or negative) you have at any given moment, all the titles you have, don't have, or want to get- they're all things that you're doing. They're not what you are.

People introduce themselves, most commonly, with their name and subsequently their profession and other basic, general information. The interesting part to me, however, is how they say it. "My name is Jordan, and I'm a doctor." We're all aware that our name is one of our possessions, but our profession has become equated with a part of our identity. It's not that Jordan "practices medicine" or "works at a clinic;" Jordan is a doctor, as if his job (a set of things he does) is the only thing of any interest or value to the other person.

I have a bad headache, and it's putting me in a bad mood. At this point I might be heard to say "I am pissed off at the universe," or something equivalent. Well, that's just simply not true; I'm not always angry or in pain, and there's nothing about me inherently that makes me that way. It's how I feel at the moment.

This is "having vs. being" in life. People in modern culture develop all kinds of physiological ailments from the stress of rushing around and juggling all the plates of our complex life. Humanity claims to have mastered nature, and it's a strange situation. We survived the Black Plague, only to develop compulsions about hand sanitizer and die from hypertension-related heart disease instead.

We (Americans) have a habit of dismissing cultures we deem "primitive." Historically, the obvious example is our treatment of American Indians, but a lot of us apply the same sort of filter to how we see Eastern culture as well. The mention of meditation results in people making an "ooooh" sound and rolling their eyes, for the most part, because we think it's silly. What's the point, we ask? Sitting around in your garden and just doing nothing? Where's the benefit?

That's the benefit; there isn't a benefit. Meditation, whether it takes the form of the American Indian attitude of oneness with nature or the actual practice of "meditation" (sitting and optionally saying "ohm"), is an actiity that inherently has no goal or purpose in mind. I think that is its single greatest advantage. Just taking a little while to abandon the overly complex, hyperactive life we live and just experience the sensation of being alive in one moment might sound ethereal and silly. I think, however, that that's one of the biggest things the West lost and the East got right; everything, including you, is divine and sublime, and there's no need to go chasing after things to validate that.

There's an old expression in Arabic, Farsi, and Hebrew (depending on who you ask): "This, too, shall pass." It's extremely simple, to the point that I think most people overlook it, but think about it for a minute. In two weeks, you won't remember what you were feeling as you read this. Ten years from now, you won't still be worried about college acceptances. Emotions and other occupations, as with our brief mortal lives, are valid but transient. It's not that you are worried about things; you feel that way at the moment.

This may have been something of a blob rather than a blog, but I hope you're able to get through my obscurity to the meaning. I've personally got the jitters right now (waiting to get the last and most worrisome of my tests back), and becoming aware of how frantic and jumpy I felt reminded me of this bit of philosophy.

TL;DR You're still alive, even if you're doing nothing; meditation is the business.