What Would You Kill For?

 

What do you live for? What would you die for? What would you kill for?

Pretty interesting questions, you have to admit.

I heard them several days ago on an NPR broadcast of a 2008 documentary by Karen Michel called Live? Die? Kill? It was part of the Third Coast International Audio Festival. She asked those questions of a number of people within 30 miles of her home in Pleasant Valley, NY.

Michel’s interviews were face to face, all apparently very brief. I was intrigued. And so I tried my hand at an internet version of the same thing, emailing the questions to 80 people, requesting short answers, and guaranteeing the anonymity of their responses.

Who are these people? A very well-educated crowd with lots of graduate degrees, almost all urban-dwellers, few people of color, few who are gay; largely Jewish, Christian, and atheist/agnostic, with virtually no fundamentalists.

None of my patients, in case you were wondering.

Politics? Most are left of center. Also, the vast majority are over 50, although I did endeavor to include some in their 20s and 30s.  Still, this sample is in no way intended to represent any larger group. They exemplify the population of people who I knew well enough to think that they might give me answers. Take it for what it is.

Nearly all of the three dozen respondents took the task seriously. But two people did make a joke out of the last question. For example, one said he would kill for “being able to drive a golf ball 300 yards.”

At least, I’m hoping it was a joke.

Not everyone was certain of his or her answer, or even of the question:

Questions two and three are easy to answer:  I would die for or kill for my children. Question one is more difficult because I’m not sure exactly what you are asking?  Is it a question about the future and goals, the overall purpose of my life?  I’m not a very future oriented (or past oriented) person.  I live pretty much in the now (though a list of what I’m supposed to do is useful for achieving a good night’s sleep).

I don’t think I have any particular mission in life.  I live trying to do what needs to be done, to enjoy the world and to care for my loved ones.

Her husband also wasn’t sure about what precisely he lives for: “I don’t live for anything, I think. I live day-to-day, and try to do the things that are right and that make me and others happy.”

They sound well matched, don’t they? For them, questions of purpose don’t seem troublesome. But not everyone felt this way:

I wish I could say there is someone or something I would live or die for. This probably comes from being childless. When I was young, I would have answered this question with the name of my first husband… until he cheated and broke my heart.

Since I am a firm believer in not killing, including animals and even insects (except mosquitos trying to bite me), there is nothing I would kill for. The only time I could ever envision killing would be to kill myself. After a life of suffering from depression, there have been times when I concluded that suicide must always be an option for me.

The hardest question is “what do I live for?” I live because I am alive. I don’t live for anyone or anything. Again, I think not having children influences my answer to this question.

A quite different response came from a woman whose return email to me embraced the task with particular enthusiasm; and whose answers confirmed a view of living that glories in ideas of freedom and spontaneity.

This sounds like fun! My pleasure:

1. I live for glee and pursue it shamelessly. Where do I find it? In the most unexpected places. How do I encounter it? Through my addiction to surprises and change, adventure, and risk.

2. I would die for love, I really would. What do I love? Innocence. I would immolate myself if I thought I could save purity, innocence and hope (faith).

3. I would kill out of despair, only for rage. What do I rage against? Naivety, blind stupidity that refuses pain or rejects unwelcome aspects of truth. If I saw such horror before me, I might kill myself out of despair at beholding my own projection.

One of the most interesting answers to the question “What do you live for?” was more like an item from a wish-list than practical guidance for day-to-day existence:

…Another part of me lives for the future — by hoping to recreate the past. The happiest days of my life were the summers of my youth, when aside from an hour of daily piano practice, I was free to ride my bike, play baseball, and do anything I pleased. Ever since, I’ve dreamed of having a “30 year summer.” The clock is ticking, but the math still works.

Frequent responses to the first two items mentioned the desire to learn, find “meaning,” leave a legacy, make a difference, the need to create, and the importance of religious/spiritual beliefs. I also received a number of comments indicating a willingness to die for one’s country or to combat evil or to preserve liberty; similarly, people who said they would kill in order to defend family, country, or themselves.

But quite a few respondents realized that saying that they hoped to do so did not mean that they actually would. And many thought that they would not want to kill under any circumstances.

Only one person seemed utterly certain about the capacity to kill and the reason to do it — because he had already done it: “I kill for food.”

For another, living is largely focused on self-satisfaction: “I live for the things that make me happy in life. Those things can be as simple as a sunset, watching a fire in my fireplace on a snowy night, the beach and the ocean, family, and friends to knowing that I have made a positive difference in someone’s life.”

Here is a thoughtful response to all three questions that is shaped, in part, by a particular set of life circumstances:

1. I live for my loved ones and especially my children – to spend time with them, learn from them, enjoy the growth and blossoming of younger ones and the wisdom of older ones. I also live for doing things that interest me, and for doing things to help others. And I live to learn, and to grow. Also, to read books and squeeze in a little writing. I live to see beautiful natural places…to try to be a good person and my best self. And I live to help my younger daughter (who is intellectually challenged) become more independent, and to help my older daughter have some adult time when she is not responsible for her sister. (She will be her sister’s guardian once I die.)

2. I have never thought of what I would die for, and have never been in a situation where I really needed to answer this question. So in imagining what I might consider being worth dying for, I hope I would die for justice, and if it were necessary to give my life to “do the right thing” for someone else. I hope I would die to save the life of my children, and to save any children really. I probably would die trying to save the life of any of my friends, my family, my dog – anyone in distress, really. I hope I would die trying to stop someone from doing evil to others.

3. Hmmm….doesn’t say what kind of creature I’d “need” to kill. I imagine if it were necessary for me to kill an animal to survive, I might be able to do that. Might not. I hope I would kill a person who was in the process of wreaking physical destruction on others, though I’m not sure how I might do that. I have a hard time imagining any other situation when I would kill.

It is interesting that virtually no one in this group of very accomplished (but mostly anonymous) people mentioned material things, money, status, or power. Only one person stated that she lived for “success” and no one wrote the word “career” except to disqualify it.

Two respondents identified “family” as the answer to each query. I asked one, a professional performer, for a further explanation:

1. What do you live for?

I could say music, but then I would be lying. Making music is one of the highlights of my life. I feel privileged that am able to do something I love tremendously. I am passionate about performing — very much so. But I do not live for it. I live for my family. They are the ones that matter more than anything in my life.  I live for the children I do not yet have. I am extremely fulfilled and cared for by a loving husband. And I love and enjoy my close relationships with my immediate family. I live for them.

2. What would you die for?

Any number of scenarios, but they boil down to: if it would save someone I loved, then I would die trying to save them.

3. What would you kill for?

A perfect body? Oodles of money? A longer life? A genie? Never aging? Maybe, but probably not. Only if I was protecting my family can I ever imagine doing such a thing.

For the musician’s husband, it was equally simple — the last word on the subject:

Immediately I thought “love” would answer all three questions.

If you’d like to hear the radio program that prompted this essay, go to: Live? Die? Kill?

Thanks to all of you who responded to my request for answers and to any others who might wish to add their own answers to these three questions in the Comments section below.

https://i2.wp.com/upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/4/4d/Klimt_-_Der_Kuss.jpeg/500px-Klimt_-_Der_Kuss.jpeg

The top image is The Body of Abel Found by Adam and Eve by William Blake, sourced from Wikimedia Commons. The bottom painting is The Kiss by Gustav Klimt from 1907/8, sourced from Wikimedia Commons.

Old But Useful Thoughts: a Stoic Guide to Life

The Stoic philosophers have gotten a bad rap. I know, this problem isn’t exactly as pressing as the unemployment rate, the deficit, and our military involvement in the Middle East.

I therefore beg your indulgence and hope you will read further. It just might influence how you think about life. The BP oil contamination can wait — and you can’t do anything about it anyway —  so don’t let it get the best of you, a point the Stoics would surely make.

The “bad rap” is largely the result of how we understand the word “stoic.” We define that word to refer to someone who is indifferent to emotion, deadened to pain, hardened and impassive; someone who has “killed” his feelings. But this is not what Zeno, a third century B.C. Greek philosopher had in mind when he founded his school of philosophy.

Rather, the Stoics saw that emotion could become extreme and destructive. They therefore looked to find some balance between head and heart, with the passions held in check.

More importantly, however, Stoics turned their attention to the importance of a person’s own behavior and inner life, seeking to help the individual find equanimity and satisfaction in life (in part) by not overvaluing the inessential, external things and events that crowd in on him. According to their line of reasoning, it is important to distinguish what is virtuous and important that is controllable from what is trivial and outside of one’s control. Then, by giving a paramount position to clarity of thought and self-reflection, one may achieve freedom from the excesses of anger, self-pity, jealousy, suffering, and anguish, as well as an overall sense that life hasn’t “played fair” with us.

Professor Luke Timothy Johnson has said the following about the contrast between the world view of a man like Marcus Aurelius, the Stoic “philosopher/king” of second century Rome, and our own way of thinking about “the good life:”

Marcus Aurelius was obsessed by the transitory character of all existent things. We (by contrast) take our institutions for granted. We think that life is long. We assume that we should be healthy. Marcus Aurelius spurned pleasure and sought duty. We are driven by the notions of feeling good, and the pursuit of happiness is often identified with the pursuit of pleasure. Marcus Aurelius identified freedom as a call to virtue and duty, whereas in present day America, we often think of freedom as the most radical form of individualism and doing what we like.

The Stoics would say that most of us are not free. Rather, we are slaves to making money, accumulating objects, and creating or defending a reputation. For them, “living well” didn’t mean living in the lap of luxury, but living simply, concerned with improving oneself and one’s conduct toward other men.

For these philosophers and like-minded people of today, the ups and downs of life, the illnesses, the job frustrations and relationships disappointments, and the calumnies of the jealous, not to mention death itself, are all seen as simply “in the nature of things.” Acceptance of what is “natural” and what is a normal part of the human condition is key to a Stoic’s way of taking the world as it is, not as one might wish it to be. If a Stoic is approached by someone who has suffered a reversal of fortune and is asking “Why me?” he would likely answer, “Why not you.” (Or anyone else, for that matter).

Stoics such as Seneca and Epictetus believed that by leading a virtuous life one could achieve happiness, regardless of what external misfortunes (including death) happened. This is surely farther than most of us would go, but that way of thinking does tend to normalize and minimize certain events that we consider to be “tragic.”

Those of us who live in Western Civilization run the risk of thinking that our happiness depends on how well our kids do in school (and whether they attend the “right” school), our next promotion or job title, the approval of our “betters,” making a certain amount of money or achieving an advanced social rank, and a gorgeous house in a fine neighborhood. The Stoics would say we are much too concerned with external things (rather than focusing on trying to lead a virtuous life). And, interestingly enough, contemporary psychological research tends to support the Stoics: those with tons of money are only somewhat more satisfied with life than those with just enough for the basic necessities.  Put another way, it is the striving for things outside of ourselves, the struggle to defeat or avoid the inevitable disappointments of life, that robs one of peace of mind.

In effect, the Stoics are saying that we pay too much attention to external things of little “real” value, and that in so doing we create our unhappiness, having chosen beliefs which lead us into the pain we seek to avoid.

Take an example. A parent wants his child to obtain a graduate school level education from a “good” school. The child, however, may not be of an academic bent, and doesn’t seem destined to achieve this goal, although he is otherwise a decent young man. And so the parent frets, feeling disappointment and frustration. Meanwhile, another parent, who has a similar child, doesn’t place so much value on this particular direction and doesn’t see it as an essential path for his child to follow. The first man is unhappy, the second is happy. The unhappiness is the creation of the first man’s opinion about things, it does not reside in the thing itself.  The parent is troubled because of his attachment to an idea, something that is external to him and is inessential for his contentment or the well-being of his son, however much he might think otherwise.

Now, you might think that the Stoic is unambitious and that he doesn’t try hard enough (or encourage his kids to try). Regarding the latter, I suspect that a real Stoic would value knowledge and learning and encourage the same in his child, but not make it a cause for desperation and the wringing of his hands. So, while not completely “hands off” the practical things of life, he achieves some distance from pain by thinking things through.

The Stoics desire to live in harmony with the way the world is, rather than to struggle against it. And, here again, they strive to improve themselves — their moral and intellectual state — rather than the state of their bank account or their rank in the pecking order of social and business life. In the words of Epictetus “…as the (working) material of the carpenter is wood, and that of (a sculptor is) bronze, so the subject-matter of the art of living is each person’s own life.” Thus, the philosopher attempts to attain a state of courage, justice, temperance, and wisdom; and always turns back to such thoughts in a constant effort to improve himself and practice what he preaches.

Interestingly, Stoics were also way ahead of everyone else in matters of social justice. For them, slaves were seen as the equal of other men, and women were thought to have just as much capacity for rationality as men, views that were unheard of in the ancient world.

And, as you might have noticed, the Stoics were not so far off from the mindset of Zen philosophy. In particular, both recommend living “in the moment,” being aware of the transitory nature of most things that make us unhappy, and the fruitlessness of spending too much time looking back (usually with regret or nostalgia) or looking forward (often in anxiety or the uncertain hope of a better future) while the unrepeatable present moment passes by.

Here are a few quotations from three of the great Stoic philosophers. Best to read them individually and think about each one, rather than to blow through them quickly. Who knows, one or another might change your life.

“But what says Socrates? ‘One man finds pleasure in improving his land, another his horses. My pleasure lies in seeing that I myself grow better day by day.'” (Epictetus, CLIII)

“If you are told that…one speaks ill of you, make no defense against what was said, but answer, ‘He surely (didn’t know) my other faults, (or) else he would have mentioned (those as well)!” (Epictetus, CLXIX)

“What wouldst thou be found doing when overtaken by Death? If I might choose, I would be found doing some deed of true humanity, of wide import, beneficent and noble. But if I (am) not be found engaged in (anything) so lofty, let me hope at least for this…that I may be found raising up in myself that (quality) which has fallen; learning to deal more wisely with the things of sense; working out my own tranquility…” (Epictetus, CLXXXIX)

“(I learned) from Alexander the Platonic, not frequently to say to anyone that I have no leisure; nor continually to excuse (my) neglect of duties…by alleging urgent occupations.” (Marcus Aurelius, I.12)

“Every moment think steadily…to do what thou hast in hand with perfect and simple dignity, and feeling of affection, and freedom, and justice; and to give thyself relief from all other thoughts. And thou wilt give thyself relief, if thou doest every act of life as if it were the last, laying aside all carelessness and passionate aversion from the commands of reason, and all hypocrisy, and all self-love, and discontent with the portion which has been given to thee. Thou seest how few… things are (required), …which if a man (has in hand), he is able to live a life which flows in quiet, and is like the existence of the gods; for the gods on their part will require nothing more from him who observes these things.” (Marcus Aurelius, II.5)

“Do the things external which fall upon thee distract thee? Give (yourself) time to learn something new and good, and cease to be whirled around (by external events).” Marcus Aurelius, II.7.

“Or is it your reputation that’s bothering you? But look at how soon we’re all forgotten. (It is) the abyss of endless time that swallows it all. The emptiness of those applauding hands.” (Marcus Aurelius, IV.3)

“Do not waste the remainder of thy life in thoughts about others…For thou losest the opportunity of doing something else when thou hast such thoughts as these: ‘What is such a person doing, and why, and what is he saying, and what is he thinking of, and what is he contriving,’ and whatever else of the kind makes us wander away from our own ruling power.” (Marcus Aurelius, IV.4)

“…By all means bear this in mind, that within a very short time both thou and he will be dead and soon not even your names will be left behind.” (Marcus Aurelius, IV.6)

—“In the morning when thous risest unwillingly, let this thought be present — I am rising to the work of a human being. Why then am I dissatisfied if I am going to do the things for which I exist and for which I was brought into the world.” Marcus Aurelius, V.1)

“Let it make no difference to thee whether thou art cold or warm, if thou art doing thy duty; and whether thou art drowsy or satisfied with sleep; and whether ill-spoken of or praised; and whether dying or doing something else. For it is one of the acts of this life; it is sufficient then in this act…to do well (with) what we have in hand.” (Marcus Aurelius, VI,1)

“The best way of avenging thyself is not to become like (the wrong-doer).” Marcus Aurelius, VI,6)

“…Keep thyself simple, good, pure, serious, free from affectation, a friend of justice, a worshiper of the gods, kind, affectionate, strenuous in all proper acts. Strive to continue to be such as philosophy wished to make thee. Reverence the gods and help men. Short is life. There is only one fruit of…this life — a pious disposition and social acts. Do everything as a disciple of Antoninus. Remember his constancy in every act which was conformable to reason, and his evenness in all things, and his piety, and the serenity of his countenance, and his sweetness, and his disregard of empty fame, and his efforts to understand things…and how he bore with those who blamed him unjustly without blaming them in return…” (Marcus Aurelius, VI, 30)

“Let not future things disturb thee, for (you will) come to them, if it shall be necessary, having…the same reason which now thou usest for present things.” Marcus Aurelius, VII,8)

“Is any man afraid of change? Why? What can take place without change?…Can anything that is useful be accomplished without change?…” (Marcus Aurelius, VII,18)

“The art of life is more like the wrestler’s art than the dancer’s, in respect of this, that it should stand ready and firm to meet onsets which are sudden and unexpected.” (Marcus Aurelius, VII, 61)

“No longer talk at all about the kind of man who a good man ought to be, but be such.” (Marcus Aurelius, VIII, 16)

“I have often wondered how it is that every man loves himself more than all the rest of men, but yet sets less value on his own opinion of himself than on the opinion of others…” (Marcus Aurelius, XII,4)

“How ridiculous and how strange to be surprised at anything which happens in life!” (XII,13)

“If it is not right, do not do it. If it is not true, do not say it.” (Marcus Aurelius, XII,17)

“(Good men) should not be afraid to face hardships and difficulties, or complain of fate; whatever happens, good men should take it in good part, and turn it to a good end. It is not what you endure that matters, but how you endure it. (Seneca, On Providence)

“Among the many splendid sayings of our friend Demetrius there is this one…’Nothing,’ he said, seems to me more unhappy than the man who has no experience of adversity.’ For he has not been allowed to put himself to the test.” (Seneca, On Providence).

“You are wrong if you think anyone has been exempted from ill; the man who has known happiness for many a year will receive his share someday; whoever seems to have been set free from this has only been granted a delay.” (Seneca, On Providence).

“What is the duty of a good man? To offer himself to fate…The soul that is earthbound and sluggish will follow the safe course; virtue takes to the heights.” (Seneca, On Providence).

“Inside (of yourself the universe has) given you every good; your good fortune is in not needing good fortune (to be happy).” (Seneca, On Providence).

“Revenge is an admission of pain; a mind that is bowed by injury is not a great mind. The man who has done the injury is either stronger than you or weaker; if he is weaker, spare him, if stronger, spare yourself.” (Seneca, On Anger).

“All of us are inconsiderate and imprudent, all unreliable, dissatisfied, ambitious…all of us are corrupt. Therefore, whatever fault he censures in another man, every man will find residing in his own heart….So let us show greater kindness to one another.” (Seneca, On Anger).

“No man will ever be happy if tortured by the greater happiness of another.” (Seneca, On Anger).

“The greatest outcry surrounds money: this is what brings exhaustion to the courts, sets fathers against children, concocts poisons, hands out swords to assassins and the legions alike; this is what wears the stain of our blood; this that makes the nights of wives and husbands noisy with quarrelling, and the crowd surge against the benches where the magistrates arbitrate; because of money, again, kings grow savage and engage in plunder, overthrowing states built by the long toil of centuries so they can rummage for gold and silver among the ashes of cities.” (Seneca, On Anger).

“…in the future have regard not only for the truth of what you say but for the question (of) whether the man you are addressing can accept the truth.” (Seneca, On Anger).

“…so long as each one of us prefers to trust someone else’s judgment rather than relying on his own, we never exercise judgment in our lives but constantly resort to trust, and a mistake that has been passed down from one hand to another takes us over and spins our ruin.” (Seneca, On the Happy Life).

“Human concerns are not so happily arranged that the majority favors the better things: evidence of the worst choice is the crowd.” (Seneca, On the Happy Life).

“For as far as pleasure is concerned, though it pours itself all around us and flows in through every channel, charming our minds with its blandishments, and applying one means after another to captivate us wholly or partly, who on earth, who has any trace of humanity left in him, would wish to have his senses tickled day and night and, abandoning the mind, to devote himself to the body?” (Seneca, On the Happy Life).

“For if a man has put himself beyond the reach of all desires, what can he lack? What need does he have of anything external, if he has concentrated all that he possesses in himself?” (Seneca, On the Happy Life).

“In my case, if wealth slips away, it will deprive me only of itself, but you (who value wealth too highly), will be stuck dumb, you will think you have been deserted by your own self if it leaves you; in my eyes wealth has a certain place, in yours it is center-stage; to sum up, my wealth belongs to me, you belong to yours.” (Seneca, On the Happy Life).

“I say that wealth is not a good as it is, since something that is found among wicked men cannot be called a good; for if it was it would make men good; as it is, since something that is found among wicked men cannot be called a good, I deny it this name. But that it is desirable, that (it) is useful and confers great benefits in life, I do admit.” (Seneca, On the Happy Life.)

“It is truly said…by Curius Dentatus, that he would rather be a dead man than a live one dead; it is the worst of evils to depart from the world of the living before you die.” (Seneca, On the Tranquility of the Mind).

“Nothing, however, delights the mind as much as a loving and loyal friendship.” (Seneca, On the Tranquility of the Mind).

“Small is the part of life that we really live. All that remains of our existence is not actually life but merely time.” (Seneca, On the Shortness of Life).

“…the greatest waste of life exists in postponement: that is what takes away each day as it comes, that is what snatches away the present while promising something to follow. The greatest obstacle to living is expectation, which depends on tomorrow and wastes today. What lies in the hands of Fortune you deal with, what lies in your own hands you let slip. Where are you looking? Where are you bending your aim? All that is still to come lies in doubt: live here and now!” (Seneca, On the Shortness of Life)

“But those who forget the past, ignore the present, and fear for the future have a life that is very brief and filled with anxiety…Their very pleasures are fearful and troubled by alarms of different kinds; at the very moment of rejoicing, the anxious thought occurs to them: ‘How long will this last?'” (Seneca, On the Shortness of Life)

“No man is crushed by misfortune unless he has first been deceived by prosperity. Those who love her gifts as if they are theirs to enjoy forever, who wish to be highly regarded because of them, lie prostrate in mourning whenever these false and fickle delights abandon their vacuous and childish minds that know nothing of any lasting pleasure: but the man who has not become puffed up by happy fortune does not collapse when there is a reversal.” (Seneca, On the Shortness of Life)

“When you have lost one who is most dear, it is stupid indulgence to grieve endlessly, but inhuman hardness not to grieve at all.” (Seneca, On the Shortness of Life).

The above image is of Marcus Aurelius.