On the 2 hour drive back from Brighton to Oxford today , I nodded off in the passenger seat throughout. When I finally woke up it was past 10pm, it was night, and it was (surprise, o England) raining. My housemates put in a CD on full blast to prevent any of us from falling asleep on the drive back, which clearly failed on me. It was really strangely like deja vu when Bon Jovi began playing and we were all harmonizing to it. Back in 2010, when we were first acquainted with each other, we spent a fair bit of time watching Youtube videos in R's room and singing along to songs - specifically one of them being this one:
Click to view
What do I now think about this "carpe diem" philosophy which I subscribed so heartily to before I entered university - that it was indeed my life, that it was really now or never, that we wouldn't live forever, and the rule of the day was to be able to say, I did it my way? It is very appealing. And I think the appeal of this kind of philosophy goes beyond an indulgent feel-good hedonism about doing whatever we want. The song itself - which brought Bon Jovi to fame - captures something of the transience of life. It answers this inevitable fact with a defiant resistance to the mundane, a clarion call to self-direction, and an assertion of autonomy.
The most thought-provoking analysis nevertheless comes from the Teacher, who writes in Ecclesiastes (one of my favourite books ever):
Light is sweet, and it pleases the eyes to see the sun.
However many years a man may live, let him enjoy them all.
But let him remember the days of darkness, for thy will be many.
Everything to come is meaningless.
Be happy, young man, while you are young,
and let your heart give you joy in the days of your youth.
Follow the ways of your heart and whatever your eyes see,
but know that for all these things God will bring you to judgment.
So, then - enjoyment is good, but autonomy is never without its consequences. All things considered it is never just my life. Not simply because I believe in some transcendence of our earthly lives, but because like it or not we are encumbered within a web of familial and societal relations that make it impossible to ever exercise decisions with full independence. And a person who defies self-will to serve others, whether it be a family member, a spouse, a school, a church, a village, a country, may have (in the most ironic of terms) died to self-desire. Yet what is commendable about his or her decision is that in a world where the self is idolised and the individual elevated above all, he or she has made a difficult decision.
The most painful experience of the past three years was learning this counter-intuitive principle: that autonomy is not about the achievement and sustenance of private agenda, though a desire to realise selfhood and make meaning out of mortality make that very appealing. James, many years after The Teacher, notes incisively in a very uncomfortable passage: Now listen, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.” Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. Instead, you ought to say, “If it is the Lord’s will, we will live and do this or that.” As it is, you boast in your arrogant schemes. All such boasting is evil. If anyone, then, knows the good they ought to do and doesn’t do it, it is sin for them. Being the kind of (annoying) liberal thinker that I am, I do think that autonomy is a valid and worthy principle in and of itself. Regardless of its legitimacy, autonomy lived by animal spirits cannot be said to be true autonomy.