meaning Archives - The Cracked Door

What Can We Do to Be Satisfied in Life?

What leads to people feeling satisfied and fulfilled in life? This is a daunting question, but I have been thinking about it a lot recently. I have a potential answer. Based on when I talk with people around the world, some who are satisfied in life and some who are not – I have sensed that one thing seems again and again to be most significant in whether people feel satisfied and fulfilled in their life: feeling connected to others in life-giving relationships.

I don’t know whether generalizing to everyone across all cultures is useful or even possible, but this is a pattern I have been seeing on pretty much whatever continent I visit. Humans crave and find meaning in life-giving relationships.

By being connected in “life-giving relationships,” I mean ones where the person can give life to others and in turn, receive life in those relationships. We tend to be drawn to creating, cultivating, growing, enhancing, etc. of life in the world around us, and we tend to be most fulfilled when we can participate in that process. A sad aspect of contemporary society is that it can often seem to alienate us from these communities.

How to participate will vary widely given the person’s personality and the needs of their community. Some might lead an organization that is doing something beneficial to humanity, but in my experience, this form often gets overemphasized as if it is the primary way to make a difference. Some participate in life-giving relationships by doing something as down-to-earth as sewing clothes or building bricks. It really depends on the person and the community. Humans seem particularly adept at producing new, creative ways to foster life given a new set of circumstances and needs, so the possibilities seem truly endless.

I also mean giving “life” in the broadest sense possible: not just human life but also animals and other forms of life. Some people are drawn towards animals. Some might be drawn towards specific types of humans in specific types of circumstances, such as someone who had to work through a specific hard time in life and gravitates towards helping those who also have a similar experience. All of this will vary widely according to the individual, circumstance, and cultural context.

Literally every source of happiness fades, but in my experience, life-giving relationships seem to be the longest lasting. Some forms of happiness are primarily or exclusively consumptive, and in my experience, these often fade the fastest: material objects, drug highs, etc. Life-giving relationships, in contrast, are participatory for the person. We receive life when we give it, and being in a healthy system of relationships provides the most wholesome forms of satisfaction. When in those relationships, accruing specific material things that help attain that goal help, and some moments, we may just need to unwind some simple pleasures. Absolutely, but these do not form a good basis of satisfaction in one’s life as a whole.

Some potential forms of happiness involve building or refining ourselves: learning/education, self-improvement, even the quest for power, etc. In my experience, the happiness from these tend to last longer than purely consumptive forms, but when done in themselves, they too eventually become vacuous. If you are not plugged into a reason for learning that involves making the world around you better, in my experience at least, learning can lose its shine. Refining and improvements often needs a purpose to attach itself to, and in some way, helping to improve the world around you tends to, in the long run, both the most fulfilling long-term purpose.

Then, finally, you have some forms of happiness that are unhealthy manifestations of the desire for life-giving relationships. Fame as a form of happiness is a good example of this, which are secretly relational states. For example, when one desires fame, most often they desire a relationship where many other people know them and give them adoration and accolades. For a small percentage of people, their way to produce life ends up leading to fame, but when someone pursues fame in itself, they are often pursuing a bastardized version of a healthy system of life-giving relationships.

In contrast to these three types of happiness, life-giving relationships tends to be ultimately the most fulfilling form of happiness, where we are plugged into a system where we both give life to others and in turn receive life ourselves.

The Rabbit amidst the Flood (A Short Story)

I am going to bring floodwaters on the earth to destroy all life under the heavens, every creature that has the breath of life in it. Everything on earth will perish. (Genesis 6:17, NIV Translation)

“We aren’t enough,” the rabbit cried to the others. They all looked equally perplexed and hurt.

“But why?” One stammered.

“I don’t know. God wants to do us all over again. That’s what he said. I was there when he spoke to the human.”

“But how would he expect to do that?”

“A giant flood.”

The statement washed over them. No one knew what to say. The rabbit sat there, but he could tell they couldn’t handle his presence anymore, so he left.

He stared out into the great vast night thinking about what would happen. Was God really going to drown them all? Did he do something wrong to deserve this? Was he or those he loved really so bad to deserve this?

God had said this newest species, the humans, had done something wrong, and he now regretted making them and all the other animals. But why single out all other animals as well? God couldn’t have been giving the whole story to this human. Maybe God only mentioned human wrongdoing to this human. The animals must have been something bad to get lumped in with the humans like this, and that was what he was going to find out.

Over the next several days, the rabbits spread the message of doom among the other animals.

The rabbit tried to work with the other creatures to form an action plan, but at first, the other animals just freaked out. They tried to think of as many ways as they could to pacify the deity and to convince him that their lives were worth continuing. They built altars to self-conflagrate, hoping this would appease God. Some even offered themselves to be sacrificed on the hope that their deaths might save all the other creatures.

Others turned to asceticism, convinced that we all must be too involved in the pleasures of the world. That must be why God is doing this. If they denied these to themselves, they thought they could save themselves or maybe even all the creatures of the world. Some predators even renounced eating their fellow animals entirely, until they withered nearly to the point of starvation.

God remained silent, never seeming to budge or care about how these animals harmed themselves on his behalf, but the rabbit could not get them to sit down and listen. So, he decided he needed to move on.

He went to the ocean, maybe the creatures of the sea had ideas on what to do. He sat at the edge of the water, striking up a conversation with a few sharks. As the rabbit asked for advice, they just laughed.

“There’s nothing you can do,” one shouted back. “Whatever you did wrong; you must accept your fate. Soon enough we will feast on the bounty of your corpses.”

He couldn’t get anything useful from them. The lucky freaks were immune, which they had come to see as a type of ordained privilege, as if they deserved to survive unlike these damned landed creatures. The fish did not see their land as kin but simply as an upcoming harvest.

These fish had given him an idea. They felt fine because they did not think they would be hurt by the danger. With proper hope for survival, his fellow landed creatures would be able to keep going. As a community, if they worked together, they might be able to influence the mind of God.

When he returned to his neighborhood, things had changed drastically. Anger had swept the terrestrial creatures. How could this god smite them for the evil the humans had done? They had each found their own way to curse God and die. Some retreated to their own worlds, where they could be by themselves. Even creatures that usually lived in flocks turned on each other and left for their own wildness.

Others sought to destroy the world around them. It was all going to wash away anyways. Who cares? They attacked other animals without thought or concern, seeming to revel in destruction. A few channeled their anger at the human building the ark, attacking him, his family, and the ark itself. He and his family were always able to hunt down the creatures that went after them, though, like God was protecting them.

Evidently, the other humans did not believe him about what God had said and criticized him for building the ark, but these animals strategically attacking him seemed to convince them that some unforeseen divine initiative was afoot. He thought some supernatural beings were sending him waves of animals to try to prevent him from fulfilling God’s command. This caused the humans to leave him alone and let him face his fate with the divine alone. For them, the gods must be having an argument, and they would wait to decide which side won.

The rabbit developed the idea to try to build his own ark. He organized a group of creatures with different sizes and skills, and they started by watching the human see how to build one. But they were never able to replicate his tools. They had no thumbs to hammer or even form the hammers and nails in the first place.

What they constructed never got off the ground. He could only compare his failure with the providential success of the man’s even more massive boat. He slowly realized all hope was lost. He was going to die. This God had decided to kill them, and there was nothing they could do about it. And for what? For the evils of some humans beyond their control. He really hated these humans.

He sunk into his burrow refusing comfort. As his daughter, I tried to get food for him to keep him going, but there seemed little point. He had already accepted that he was going to die, and nothing would change his mind.

In the process of finding food, the ark-building human found me. I had been chosen, as one of only two rabbits to survive on his boat. I desperately wanted to be with my father, but I guess I had another calling. God himself seemed to pick me, because no matter how much I tried to escape to see my father in his last moments, I could not.

As the waters engulfed the earth and we remained in our protective kiln of ark, I looked at the darkening world. As the waters rose, I could see my father salvaging the last bits of his makeshift boat, trying to keep his raft together on top of the coming storm, only for one extra-large wave to sink him into the depths.

This is the story I tell to you my children. Tell the story of your Great Rabbit Father. Remember the loss that God wrought onto us animals because of the humans. Trust no one. Humanity and their God least of all. Once we hopped in pride, but we must be vigilant. The world is dark and horrifying, and all we can do is try our best to survive.

The Affluence Trap: Why More Money Doesn’t Always Mean More Freedom

You would think that those who make more money would have less financial troubles, but in many cases, you would be wrong. In surveys, people with higher income often report living from paycheck to paycheck.

This is because many wealthier people succumb to income inflation. This is a common human phenomena where those who make more money spend more on more expensive items and thus feel the need to make even more money. The millionaire struggling to afford the payments to keep his private airplane fueled, if you will.

Why does this happen? In short, because when many people make more money, they get a sense that they should live it up, buying more and more things. This can creep slowly and before you know it, one is spending hundreds of thousands of dollars a year on simple payments.

Whether you are wealthy or of modest means, these are three tricks to counteract this tendency:

The first is to think about what you really want in your life. Too often people assume that because they are wealthier, they should want and do the things that other wealthier people seem to want to and do: to buy a big house in whatever neighborhood is considered “nice,” buy expensive clothes, eat out at fancy restaurants, etc. But are these things you actually want?

It is reasonable to shell out more for better quality or for the things one truly desires in life, but most of the time, more expensive does not mean better quality. Many luxury brands are not better in quality; they are just more expensive, and to a point, many fancier restaurants similarly do not have a similar increase in quality. In situations where the more expensive product has a useful feature for you, it can be worth it to pay more for it, but most often, restaurants or stores that charge more do so because people think of more expensive products as better, not because they are actually better.

Similarly, buy only the specifications that you need. This can include durability: paying a little more for something that will last a long time costs less money in the long run than having to replace it down the line. If you only need a normal computer with normal processing, shelling out thousands of dollars for the latest high-end portable “supercomputer” does not make sense. Some people (like software engineers) may need those specifications, but if you are not one of those people, don’t worry about it. Marketers often convince us to buy products beyond what they actually need.

Second, don’t buy on credit. People should not do this unless they absolutely have to, and those who are making higher incomes do not have to. (The less well-off often get trapped into buying on credit, crippling them with debt, but that is a topic for another article.) Spend the money you have, nothing more and nothing less. I am even hesitant to get out a loan and pay for expensive purchases: purchase what you can afford right now. If you are buying something that takes years to pay back, consider whether that thing is worth being overworked in a crappy yet well-paid job with an obnoxious boss to complete your payments, because that is in effect what you are doing. For example, would you rather have a cheaper used car that still gets you around but retire early? I have a friend who bought a second home in the countryside, which he never visits. Was it really worth it to him to have to work several decades to own a place he doesn’t do much with? No. It was self-defeating: to pay for his new home, he had to work a job that never gave him the free time to enjoy the home in the first place. Many major expenses like cars and a new home may not be worth sacrificing the majority of one’s life to.

Buying experiences like traveling to new parts of the world or having adventures can be a fulfilling yet strategic use of one’s wealth. If you can afford a few thousand dollars, spending it on a trip to some new part of the world you have never been to is likely a far more spiritually enriching use of money than using it for the first month’s down payment on a bigger house in another part of town. If your circumstances change, you can always claw back on experiences, but a mortgage locks you in for decades.

Finally, think for yourself about what is important for you and what you value. Many wealthier people simply enact the narratives of what it means to be wealthy they see around them consciously or subconsciously. They think, “Oh being wealthier means, I get a big house and a fancy car, eat fine foods,” and so on. This traps them into a certain lifestyle where they must work a very selective number of positions that can pay for such a lifestyle. What do you truly find meaningful? It may not be wearing fancy jewelry, and it may not be living in the standard place every other wealthy person lives in.

Like many humans, many wealthy people live with a type of insecurity, as if they have to prove their value to others. This can lead to them showing off their wealth as a sign of their status. “Look at me; I made it.” For those like this, their problem is internal: they need to work on themselves and figure out why they don’t value who they are. If they did value who they are, they would realize how useless and fleeting the approval of others (especially strangers they don’t know) actually is.

For others, they buy the things other wealthy people seem to buy rather than think through what they value and actually want in life. Unsurprisingly, these social expectations are ever expanding: companies will always present us with another thing we need to get until we stop listening to them. Pausing and thinking for yourself about what you actually want knocks us off of that treadmill.

I hope this helps in thinking about how to deal with income inflation. Don’t follow others with means into this trap. Swim against the current of our society telling us to spend spend spend and figure out how to enjoy your life on your own terms.

“The Good Place”, Annihilationism, and How Finitude Shapes Our Passions (Reflection #7 in “The Good Place Miniseries)

Chidi and Eleanor experience complete contentedness together in the Good Place.

I recently rewatched “The Good Place” (spoiler warning), one of my favorite shows from the last ten years, and I noticed so much more about the show the second time around. I decided to write a miniseries analyzing different facets of the show – some complimentary, some critical – as a tribute to one of the most thoughtful and interesting sitcoms on mainstream US television. Here are the previous reflection and the next reflection in the series. I hope you enjoy.

I find it fascinating that at the end of the series, “The Good Place” ends up advocating a form of optional annihilationism. Annihilationism is, broadly speaking, a form of the afterlife where persons (their souls, essences, or whatever you want to call what them) ceases to exist. It mostly refers to an idea within some forms of Christianity that God makes the damned cease to exist instead of eternal torment hell like most Christians argue. The Seventh-Day Adventist Church, for example, has historically advocated this view.

The Good Place’s annihilationism is rather different: the humans in heaven/Good Place can choose to cease to exist whenever they get tired of heaven. After they have chosen to complete all they want to, they can cease to exist, where their self gets “recycled” back into the universe through what seems like a vague form of reincarnation. In the show, the eternity of heaven made it into a type of hell: no matter what people did, they continued to exist for all time. The never-ending accumulation of experiences eventually made everyone there feel lethargic like their mind was in a fog. They would indulge themselves in gratifying activities (like for a scholar, learning about whatever she wants), but no matter how long she does this for, there is still an infinite length afterwards. Eventually within this eternity, she forgot almost everything she learned and started doing the minimal amount necessary to function each day. In response to this, ceasing to exist was a potential release. Whenever they have become who they want to be and done all they want to do in Paradise, however long that takes, they can choose to cease to exist. The show implies that pretty much all humans (with Tahini being the only potential exception) will eventually choose to not exist in this way.

This is a very interesting idea. Would this be what an eternal existence in the afterlife would feel like? To answer that question, one would have to determine who or what we would be in such an afterlife, and based on that, to what extent would our present psychology apply to this “self” there. These are not simple questions. Many views of the afterlife chronicle some kind of change to who we are, both as individuals and collectively as a species, which raises all sorts of other questions. One big one is, If we do change, how can we know that these “changed selves” are really us and not a new entity in a new world based on ourselves? I am not sure we could ultimately answer these questions without experiencing existence in this fundamentally changed way, so instead of trying to weigh into those debates, I will focus on the implications of the Good Place’s answer to our current temporal existence.

The Good Place’s answers take cues from human psychology in this world where limited time produces important constraints that shape our desires and motivations. In many ways, our minds seem built to keep us through conflicts and tribulations. These can range from the overarching life goals that span years, decades, or even one’s entire life to mid-term quests that take maybe a few months to complete to daily needs or challenges. For this, time itself plays a major role in defining and setting constraints on these conflicts. Humans do seem very goal-oriented: we produce goals and actively strive to do specific things in the quest to resolve the conflicts we face.

A lot of psychology literature seems to indicate that these goals give us meaning and orient our lives. When we don’t have enough to do, boredom kicks in, stimulating us to go out and determine new activities with new potential conflicts to overcome and goals to attain. Now, rest is also crucial psychologically, and people can try to do too much. Workaholics, for example, may constantly try to do more and more without taking sufficient time to rest. Among other problems, this can lead them not giving sufficient time to reflect, which best happens when you slow down and pause your inner drive. But, Our drives still keep us centered in who we are, and humans tend to be most satisfied when balancing rest and activity.

All of this seems very adaptive to our current lives. Here we need to actively pursue things in order to survive yet ultimately have a limited amount of time on earth to complete what we set out to. The Good Place’s heaven demonstrates how connected our psychology is to such an existence by showing how if you remove finiteness from our lives, suddenly these human psychological drives don’t make sense. Heaven removed people from conflict to survive; they don’t have to make sure they eat, drink, sleep, and do other activities to stay alive. This leaves only goals they actively choose to pursue. It makes perfect sense that this would not be able to last eternally. Our own passions in this world (including our curiosity and desire to learn more) were adapted to keep us going for a finite number of years. In the show, most supernatural beings seem content to exist eternally, but humans would have to become a seismically different being to become like them.

That is my main takeaway from the Good Place’s argument in favor of the “annihilationist option.” Trying to analyze to what extent it is an accurate or necessary depiction of a good afterlife would be too difficult, since we do not know enough about the supposed afterlife in the first place. In particular, we do not know enough about what human persons in any so-called afterlife would be to tell whether such a move would benefit or otherwise be necessary for those humans. But, through its contrast with our current existence, it makes a statement about how our current psychology seems adaptive to our finite existence. What would curiosity or the desire to have fun look like without our physical needs? As much as we in Western culture like to separate these supposedly “higher pursuits” from our physical needs, I am not sure we could have them in a way similar to how we think of them now without our current constraints of time and potential death.

The Angry Firecracker (A Short Story)

There once was a firecracker named Pow Pow. He loved his life hanging out with the other firecracker friends in his bundle.

One day, they were bought by a family, and he was excited to meet them and discover what kind of fun they’d have together. The family took them out on the patio of their home. The mother took one of his firecracker friends. All the other firecrackers were excited to see how they might play with her.

The woman took a hot flame and lit it under her butt. This caused her friend to shoot away as fast as possible, screaming in pain, and die an explosive, painful death. The woman, her husband, and her kids just squealed with glee at the ordeal.

One by one Pow Pow watched as his friends were snatched, taken, and exploded in the same way. He turned hot with anger at how they could torture and kill his friends for fun like this.

Then, finally, he was picked. They carried him over to the edge of their patio where they had done away with all the others. He burned hot with rage.

Suddenly, they lit a match in his hindquarters, and he burned with anger. He broke free from their grip and flew away, shouting every obscenity he could at these murderous people. He could finally let his anger out, and it boiled within him.

Eventually that was all he could feel as he exploded with rage, becoming another fun firecracker explosion for the parents to enthrall their children.

Staring Back (A Short Story)

He had a long day at work, and he drove home exhausted, finally free to let his mind unwind. He looked out into the suburban expanse before him, full of businesses, parks with kids playing, and a few uncultivated fields. That’s where he first saw it. It was a skinny, pale figure, maybe six and a half feet tall, in a field about 50 yards away. It seemed to just stand there looking towards him. What a strange scarecrow, he thought? He felt momentarily gripped by its wilting look making him think about how life slowly erodes us just like erosion conquers hillsides over the centuries. Then his mind moved on to other things.

He felt weird when he saw it again during his drive a few days later. This time it was in the small woods next to someone’s suburban property, only 20 yards away. At this distance, he could get a better look at it. Like before, it was skinny, and pale, but he could not tell its gender. It just stared at him. Its expression was like that of curiosity that had slowly wilted away into a tired indifference. What was it doing, and how did it get here?

He would frequently see it on his drives home from work, sometimes multiple times. He always sensed that it was always there, but he only really noticed it when his mind was tired, bored, or otherwise wandering. He wasn’t sure why his mind would drift towards the figure. All he knew was that when he was busy, he didn’t think about or see it. But when he took a break, out there in the grass or by a tree somewhere, it was, staring right back at him with its expressionless face. Just thinking about it made him feel exhausted.

He didn’t tell his friends or family about it for fear that they would think he was crazy. Deep down, he couldn’t shake his own fear that he was going crazy, and he assumed if he told others, they would write him off as such. He even felt too ashamed to think about it and would do all he could to remove it from his mind.

One Saturday, he felt it all day. He tried to fill his day with activities like chores, striking conversations with random strangers he met, all in the hope that he could distract himself from knowing that the figure was there with him.

That night, when he went to bed, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He glanced out the window and saw it there in the backyard staring up at him, a stone’s throw away. He slammed the curtains shut, and all the other curtains in his house. But that didn’t matter. He couldn’t sleep, knowing it was out there. He finally decided to open his bedroom window and confront it.

“What do you want?” he shouted. No response. He desperately continued shouting, his demands transitioning into begging, “What are you, and what do you want with me? Why do you keep following me?” But it said nothing. It just stared back at him with the same indifferent, lethargic expression it always has.

Furious, he finally decided enough is enough. He went outside to attack it. He rushed right up to it, but each step he took towards it, it seemed to move away. Floating above the ground, it slid backwards maintaining the same distance of about 20 feet from him. He chased it down the street in the middle of the night. It could not go through objects, opting to go around cars, poles, and other obstructions with ease, as it continued to stare at him. Finally, he had it trapped in a street with a deadend, but it somehow disappeared behind the fence of a house, where he was unable to follow. He went home defeated.

He was never able to elude the figure. As he tried to live his life, some days he saw it only once; others multiple times. He couldn’t avoid thinking about it, whenever he went outside, he wondered whether he would see it in the background somewhere, and whenever he was indoors, he wondered whether it was watching him. Slowly, he became too exhausted to handle many of his daily activities. He stopped wanting to see friends and family, only doing the bare minimum at work. Others told him he looked tired and indifferent, and one day he looked in the mirror only to realize that other than several wrinkles from the stress, his exhausted face looked just like that of the figure.

How to Prepare Yourself When What You Want to Do with Your Life Keeps Changing

In life, if I have learned anything over the course of my life, it is that I cannot predict the person I will be in a few years. We all change overtime, often in unpredictable ways, and even though a core of me remains the same, my specific goals, passions, and interests always seem to redefine themselves over the years.

For example, I have held a career for over seven years that I didn’t even know existed a year or two before starting. Then, after thinking I would do that into the foreseeable future, I ended up pursuing a very different dream of traveling the world.

The same thing happens when you look back at your past. In the moment, you may experience a major life event one way – whether horrifying, frustrating, saddening, joyous – but years or decades later, when you look back at it, you will likely feel very differently about it.

That is one thing that gives me pause when considering quickly rushing into permanent actions that will lock me in for many years or decades. I don’t really know what my future self will think of it years down the line. So then, how can I be certain that I still desire what I am seeking at that moment?

So, how should someone respond to this uncertainty? I can think of three basic approaches: 1) maximizing one’s ability to act now, 2) planning long-term projects for future gain, or 3) preparing oneself to become as perfect as possible before venturing out into the world. I tend to choose the former: positioning myself so that my future self is best able to make a decision when he is ready to.

Thus, I have tended to choose careers, living options, financial decisions, etc. that combine benefiting my current short-term interests while increasing the options that my future self will have down the line. For example, I tend to pick the job that best pads my resume to increase my options later while giving me intellectual satisfaction and financial security in the immediate future.

If a person is a car, you could say I spend my effort optimizing the vehicle. Building myself up to the best of my abilities, in terms of personal fulfillment, skill-development, professional development, etc. This way, I am as souped up as best I can be so that I can later choose the route I want to go in, whatever it is that I will want to choose at that time.

To me, others who try to produce a certain route for their lives – like those with a five year plan – are like those who spend most of their time building a specific road in front of them. This can work well if that road ends up being the route they want to take, but to me, what route I think I will want to take rarely ends up being the one I actually want to take when I am older. Thus, if I focus on building a certain route, I end up getting stuck on that route in the future, or having all that work go to waste when I inevitably choose a different path later.

It may seem counterintuitive to constantly work on yourself like this, but my strategy is not to keep the car in the garage rather than taking it onto the road (that would be the third strategy above). That is not how short-term optimization for me works. I am already on the road, focusing on how to improve myself to be able to get to more places more efficiently as I travel. I know people who think they must stay in the garage until they are ready. Taking some time by yourself to prepare is helpful, but I have also seen many languish their entire lives in the garage, unwilling to venture out because they do not match their perfect image of how they should be. I am one at least who best prepares himself through trying things out in the real world.

This is how I handle it, and why I find it works better than the other approaches. You may have a different personality with different inclinations, but it can be helpful to think through what approach would work best for you.

The Meaningless Film (A Short Story)

A group of film writers were brainstorming new movie ideas. They were tired and burnt out from churning out the usual cliche crap that regular people enjoyed, so they settled on a completely different concept: a meaningless film. It would have no meaning or significance whatsoever.

They cobbled together an assortment of scenes. No plot really, but random dialogue from conversations they had been in throughout the week. Each contributed a scene or two, and it produced a mess without a coherent story, not even stable characters. One scene one “character” was bursting with rage, the next she was timid and docile.

They showed the script to the owners of their production company, and the owners found it amazing. How did they manage to come up with such a creative yet authentic portrayal of life? Each conversation demonstrated the ambiguities and contradictions latent in the contemporary world.

The filmmakers bit their lip in frustration. How could these producers find so much meaning in such dribble? The producers were excited to make the movie, but the filmmakers abandoned the concept and went back to the drawing board. Even a film without plot or character development could have meaning.

So, they stripped all characters and plot and displayed a randomly generated series of images. But this too piqued the interest of the avant-garde film connoisseurs within their company. What an interesting statement of what art has turned into nowadays?

So, they scrapped that meaningful dribble and opted for complete silence: an hour and a half of a blank screen instead of a feature film. This stoked interest among the public, though. Would they dare make such a radical film, and what kind of statement were they trying to make?

They realized that people give meaning to the things around them, so the only way to have the film be meaningless is to have it not exist at all. Thus, they never made the film. Social media still repeated the rumor of a blank film, but it was never publicized.

The filmmakers settled. They told themselves that because no such film existed, the film itself was meaningless, although the concept and potential title of the film seemed meaningful to whatever journalists were required to opine about their supposed vision for making such a thing. That, to them, was enough.

Their producer bosses chastised them for wasting so much time and failing to make a single one of their films, so they decided upon a more productive way to take a break and heal from this burnout. They would go on strike for having to churn so much cliche content.

Time with the Glaciers of Patagonia: Finding Humanity’s Place in Nature’s Power and Majesty

Visiting Perito Moreno Glacier in Los Glaciares National Park, I was struck by how interesting I find glaciers. They remind me of nature’s majesty and subtly. Millions of bits of snow and ice slowly pack one by one until they become a landscape-shaping force. Even through nature’s slow, subtle works, all-inspiring entities emerge. Glaciers go on to reshape the landscape around them.

Every few minutes, its mass creaks with white thunder and whole towers of ice fall into the water, demonstrating how the glacier’s powerful yet slow flow builds overtime. A glacier can seem like a static entity, but the entire walls of ice falling out of nowhere into the lake below challenge this assumption. They really flow very, very slowly as they slide down the mountains. All that pressure eventually causes the ice at the very bottom to snap off. The ear-cracking thunder removes any notion other than that these glaciers are powerful forces working their way through the valley they inhabit.

In Torres del Paine National park, I hiked within the dusty leftover basis on the retreating Grey Glacier. Glaciers move tons of earth and leave the lakes, rivers, fjords, islands, moraines, and much more in their wake. For example, massive glaciers during the Ice Age produced or reformed Long Island and most of New York City, and significantly reshaped the Eastern United States.

Seeing towering walls of ice the size of skyscrapers fall suddenly into the water, humanity’s contribution to the world looks small in comparison. Natural entities like glaciers that are bigger, bolder, and older than us emerge naturally.. We can only experience the eons of time glaciers have existed in the ways they mold the landscapes around them.

At the same time, humans have had a pretty significant impact on the glaciers. Climate change is slowly melting many glaciers around the world, piece by piece. Our decisions too can accumulate into massive impacts on the landscapes around us.

Nevertheless, this glacier is still here. No matter what humans do to it, we can never get rid of the impacts its ice has had on the landscape. Maybe this will be the route of humanity as well: slowly creep into a massive force that slowly wither as well once we reach our zenith until we dissipate out leaving an impact on the landscape around us. Specific societies will most likely go that kind of route: wither until it becomes unrecognizable as it transitions into whatever comes next.

Nature produces massive emergent forces like glaciers and humanity, and those same patterns of physics will eventually take them away. Our lives will most likely only ever be one towering column of ice in nature’s system that also eventually falls into the water below.

Shattered Icons: Rebuilding Identity in Times of Change

The last several years have felt like an iconoclastic phase in my life. By this, I mean a stage of life where most of the things I once held dear have fallen apart right in front of me, and I have had to figure out how to reform myself.

Iconoclasm refers to movements where people would destroy the sacred icons or images in their houses of religious worship. In particular, this would happen from time to time in Medieval Christianity. The Christians would slowly accrue many icons (statues, sacred objects, or other things) that would become a core part of how they experienced God. Churches would become full of such icons.

Then, every once in a while, a movement against icons would sweep through the church. They would feel that the icons got in the way of true worship of the divine and would seek to purify or cleanse the church of such “idolatries.”

This metaphorically matches my current period in life. Many of the things that became most important for me and central to my identity demolished right in front of me, or at least that is how it felt. For example, jobs that gave me a sense of who I was turned out not to be what they seemed; important relationships withered; disciplines and interests that once compelled me have lost their favor; and the places where I lived that once centered have withered away.

How does one make sense of all of this; might as well respond? It can feel overwhelming, making it hard to know what to do. For me, it has been a slow trickle over several years, not a single cataclysmic event. Thus, the stress and processing has come in trickles as well.

I have noticed that I have been more cautious of relying on new things, since in the back of my mind, I doubt whether to trust it. I also notice that I have to give myself more time and patience to process everything that has happened. I need to be patient with myself while I do so.

Having an iconoclastic phase does not seem bad in the long run. It is teaching me what really matters in my life. A kind of refining fire of those past things that I have held onto, allowing me to transition into whatever new life stage I am forming. Often someone needs an iconoclastic phase during transition stages in life to supplant what one has and make room for whatever is to come.

That’s how I have been handling this stage of life. Maybe if you have such a phase, you would handle it similarly, or maybe in a completely different way. Either way, you learn a lot about yourself, however, by how you handle transitions.