Weekly Compendium (6.21.20)

What I’ve Been Reading

The state of the world today has led us to confront themes such as loneliness, connection, and danger. This piece argues that while our society seems to applaud those who take daring risks, we’re all sheltered within a bubble of safety—reluctant to take any meaningful risks. Such extreme safety has no room for resilience. We find ourselves in a place of fragility, as demonstrated by the last few months. To be truly safe, we must be willing to accept stress, discomfort, and danger.

“The health of the whole depends on the ability of the parts to adapt and withstand stress. There can be no safety without dangerous ideas.”

And to live dangerously means to be vulnerable. Without daring to open our hearts, we become isolated and trapped in our own loneliness.

“We’re encouraged to present a cheerful, one-dimensional facade in which everything awkward but essential has been planed off. Without a hold on our true selves and energy to divulge our core, we have no chance of ever genuinely ‘meeting’ anyone else – however many so-called friends we might lay claim to.”

In this time of loneliness and crisis, Stoicism has emerged as a popular way of thinking. I confess, I’ve been a little curious and yet skeptical of this fad. There’s something a little offputting about how commercialized the philosophy has become. And yet it makes me wonder why everyone is so desperate to jump on the Stoic bandwagon. What does their desperation and longing mean about society today? Highlighting the perspective of a US pilot who spent over seven years as a POW during the Vietnam War, this piece argues that Stoicism does not provide comfort or strength in the darkest times. Instead, it is our ability to experience and share in emotions that offers hope for survival.

“Against the Stoics, the Greek epic and tragic poets held that powerful emotions — including negative emotions like sorrow and fear — could be sources of wisdom. The poets knew that our emotions let us feel through what we care about, what’s important to us, and that catharsis, whether individual or shared, is an important piece of our psychological well-being.”

Without having studied Stoicism in earnest, my initial thought is that it sounds like a more dignified version of nihilism. Or, in a more technical sense, my question to the Stoics is, where do you cross the line from Stoicism to nihilism? The past few months have seemed to usher in a new age of nihilism, of destruction, of despair. From the existential crisis of the world to the utter boredom of quarantine, it feels like we’ve cast aside all the mores of civilization in a desperate attempt to simply survive. This piece argues that our current situation is not unlike the art form of Brutalism that became popular in the post-WWII world.

In the best of worlds, what is true and right should not hinge on government’s treatment of essential rights. In reality, it makes a huge difference. If governments care nothing for our freedom of movement and our economic rights, why should anyone really? This is the essence of the Brutalist view of life. Just get it done. We only need essentials. Everything else is expendable. Nothing else matters, not context, truth, decency, the past, the future,

Although I felt it a little emotionally overwrought, the author makes a compelling point for persevering to maintain dignity, beauty, and freedom, in this time of crisis.

What I’ve Been Doing

Last weekend we played Dungeons & Dragons for the first time. This is a part of nerd culture I had always been curious about but never had an opportunity to explore. When some of our friends found out that we were interested in it, they invited us over to their house to teach us.  I chose to play as a High Elf Paladin; it seemed fitting to my personality to be a crusader for justice and peace. I was very glad to discover how little you need to know in order to play the game. The dungeon master was very patient at explaining what we needed to know, and keeping track of everything that wasn’t necessary for us to know. I had always been intimidated by the game because I assumed you had to know all the lore and statistics and details in order to even begin playing. But without the pressure of trying to figure everything out, it was a lot of fun. We’ve played quite a few cooperative games before, so the concept of everyone working together and collaborating on decisions was familiar. I liked the spontaneity of the game too—you never know what is going to happen next. I also appreciate how the format allows people to really get into their characters. Unlike other games where you are randomly assigned a character with a bonus power or downfall, Dungeons & Dragons is much more about the development of the character rather than the setup of the game. From a creative perspective, I see how much fun it is to create your character, establish their background, develop quirks and idiosyncrasies, and really customize the gameplay for your unique character. Despite playing for several hours, of course we didn’t even finish our initial campaign, so I am eager for our next game night so we can see what happens next.

What I’ve Been Listening To

Toto’s “Africa” played by Tesla coils. Seriously, you should check it out.

Also, “Lost” by The Goo Goo Dolls and “My Body is a Cage” by Arcade Fire.

What I’ve Been Thinking About

This TED talk on making the world wild again really resonated with me. In particular, the speaker’s comment near the beginning about loss. “For the first time, I came to understand that something valuable can be best understood not by its presence, but by its absence.” There is something about this process of loss and grief that allows us to see that which we are grieving or the person whom we have lost, from a different perspective. Or maybe not so much a different perspective, but simply from a deeper place. Loss makes us understand our relationship to the person in a very powerful way. It is hard to express or know what someone means to us while they are with us. But in their absence, we are able to see the place that they have left, and in so tracing the empty space, we can see for the first time who they were.

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