Selflessness
So here's the philosoral (philosophical+moral=something that sounds like a dinosaur name! =D) question for the day:
Is it possible to be actually selfless without being completely miserable?
My mind began attacking this problem from two different directions as I was folding my laundry this morning. And, as usual for me, it began at a juncture in how one literally interprets the word "selfless"- as one whole word, like one would read the word "flightless" (literally, "without flight"), or as a sort of generally inconfinable designation, like with the word "boundless" (as in, a boundary may exist, but it is infinite; kind of like the idea of a circle with an infinite radius). This phonetical analysis of mine isn't ideal, by any means, and will probably only serve to confuse and muddle the rest of my argument, but regardless, I feel like it's really important to distinguish that there can be these multiple, and not wholly positive, definitions for a word which is almost exclusively used as a chorus of praise.
I want first, though, to focus on that initial definition, that is, the idea of being "without self". Because, to me, it seems the most fascinating. There were two ways I was thinking about it, the first of which being in sort of a cultural framework of literally being "without self". If we define the idea of "self" as something uniquely personal, completely untouchable by the rest of the world, you come up with two very interesting concepts. One is that of "selfishness", that is, being completely and wholly unto oneself, irregardless of what one is viewed as by the rest of the world, and the other is "selflessness" as losing all concept of oneself from becoming based entirely on what the rest of the world views you as, or perhaps what you think the world wants to view you as.
Thus, in this case, to be selfless means to do and become what is wanted and expected of you. You give up your selfishness for the greater cultural good. I could probably continue elaborating on that set of ideas, but I have the distinct feeling that I'd just muddle it up (that last thought may even have been too much, but I'm going to risk it, in the interests of tying into a larger theme), and in this particular thread of thought, I'm doing my best to keep it as clean as possible...
I did mention a second way of envisioning being "without self" and for this one, unfortunately, I'm going to have to use an example. (Oh God, how my examples always seem to get me into trouble with people who pick them out of their larger frameworks and analyze them each as individual entities, imperfect as they are...) However, this particular example ties into my following interpretive set much too nicely to try to attempt to avoid it.
Imagine a mother who's child is running late, coming home from a party. Let's say by 1/2 an hour or so (not enough time to start panicking, but maybe enough to become either worried or angry). She has the choice to either call the child and see what is going on, or not. To make the call, in my line of reasoning, is selfsh, and to not make the call, in fact, to never make the call, irregardless of when (or if) the child arrives home, is the selfless thing to do. To not make the call is to deny this person's sense of self, that is, that sense of motherhood, in favor of allowing for the child's sense of self, that is, to be out doing whatever they hell they want, even if what they were doing has landed them drunk and raped in a ditch. (Yes, I know, I do love the extreme cases). But in general, the mother is going to want to call, and if they really wanted to do what was best for their child according to their child's definition, it would be to leave the child the hell alone.
Again, this is sort of a lead in to my second imagining of "selfless" in a more traditional framework; that is, that one has a limitless amount of oneself to give of. And for this the sake of this point, I may be sacrificing my everlasting soul, because it may come off like I'm badmouthing Mother Theresa... But really, who else comes to mind when one thinks of the classic example of a (modern day, I don't want to go getting Christ involved here or anything) selfless personage, who gave of herself all she had to give, and more. No, you know what, what the hell, let's bring ol' Jesus Christ into the mix, why not? Actually, I don't know... I can feel my point slipping away from me, and I don't think I have time to elaborate on it with 1/2 baked instances.
To be truly of boundless self, to act for no other reason than the giving of yourself, I hold, is impossible. Because either you get the satisfaction (internally or externally) of knowing you did something good. To give of yourself, be spat in the face, and then see all that you've given degredated and destroyed and forgotten, and to continue to do it all over again, and to do it as a person who doesn't believe in the concept of "piling up treasure in heaven", ie. that this life is all we've got, that might be a truly selfless person. But it's the idea that oneself is worth absolutely less than everything else on earth, therefore one must try and do everything else which has nothing to do with themselves, and no benefit to themselves.
An example I can think of would be a fee-less, pimpless prostitute for whom sex feels dirty and wrong. Especially is she's a lesbian. I mean, it'd literally have to be something that gave you no warm feeling of helpfullness whatsoever inside. Because as soon as you get that, warm, *HAPPY*, helpful feeling, you start wanting to have more of it. And suddenly selfishness becomes intermingled.
I'd usually end with some kind of conclusion, but anyone reading this is smart enough to see the obvious connecting threads, so I'm going to skip any kind of a "wrap-up".
I really am interested to hear counter opinions. Again, this was all something I came up with while I was folding my laundry. It's not exactly an irrefutable philosophy.
Is it possible to be actually selfless without being completely miserable?
My mind began attacking this problem from two different directions as I was folding my laundry this morning. And, as usual for me, it began at a juncture in how one literally interprets the word "selfless"- as one whole word, like one would read the word "flightless" (literally, "without flight"), or as a sort of generally inconfinable designation, like with the word "boundless" (as in, a boundary may exist, but it is infinite; kind of like the idea of a circle with an infinite radius). This phonetical analysis of mine isn't ideal, by any means, and will probably only serve to confuse and muddle the rest of my argument, but regardless, I feel like it's really important to distinguish that there can be these multiple, and not wholly positive, definitions for a word which is almost exclusively used as a chorus of praise.
I want first, though, to focus on that initial definition, that is, the idea of being "without self". Because, to me, it seems the most fascinating. There were two ways I was thinking about it, the first of which being in sort of a cultural framework of literally being "without self". If we define the idea of "self" as something uniquely personal, completely untouchable by the rest of the world, you come up with two very interesting concepts. One is that of "selfishness", that is, being completely and wholly unto oneself, irregardless of what one is viewed as by the rest of the world, and the other is "selflessness" as losing all concept of oneself from becoming based entirely on what the rest of the world views you as, or perhaps what you think the world wants to view you as.
Thus, in this case, to be selfless means to do and become what is wanted and expected of you. You give up your selfishness for the greater cultural good. I could probably continue elaborating on that set of ideas, but I have the distinct feeling that I'd just muddle it up (that last thought may even have been too much, but I'm going to risk it, in the interests of tying into a larger theme), and in this particular thread of thought, I'm doing my best to keep it as clean as possible...
I did mention a second way of envisioning being "without self" and for this one, unfortunately, I'm going to have to use an example. (Oh God, how my examples always seem to get me into trouble with people who pick them out of their larger frameworks and analyze them each as individual entities, imperfect as they are...) However, this particular example ties into my following interpretive set much too nicely to try to attempt to avoid it.
Imagine a mother who's child is running late, coming home from a party. Let's say by 1/2 an hour or so (not enough time to start panicking, but maybe enough to become either worried or angry). She has the choice to either call the child and see what is going on, or not. To make the call, in my line of reasoning, is selfsh, and to not make the call, in fact, to never make the call, irregardless of when (or if) the child arrives home, is the selfless thing to do. To not make the call is to deny this person's sense of self, that is, that sense of motherhood, in favor of allowing for the child's sense of self, that is, to be out doing whatever they hell they want, even if what they were doing has landed them drunk and raped in a ditch. (Yes, I know, I do love the extreme cases). But in general, the mother is going to want to call, and if they really wanted to do what was best for their child according to their child's definition, it would be to leave the child the hell alone.
Again, this is sort of a lead in to my second imagining of "selfless" in a more traditional framework; that is, that one has a limitless amount of oneself to give of. And for this the sake of this point, I may be sacrificing my everlasting soul, because it may come off like I'm badmouthing Mother Theresa... But really, who else comes to mind when one thinks of the classic example of a (modern day, I don't want to go getting Christ involved here or anything) selfless personage, who gave of herself all she had to give, and more. No, you know what, what the hell, let's bring ol' Jesus Christ into the mix, why not? Actually, I don't know... I can feel my point slipping away from me, and I don't think I have time to elaborate on it with 1/2 baked instances.
To be truly of boundless self, to act for no other reason than the giving of yourself, I hold, is impossible. Because either you get the satisfaction (internally or externally) of knowing you did something good. To give of yourself, be spat in the face, and then see all that you've given degredated and destroyed and forgotten, and to continue to do it all over again, and to do it as a person who doesn't believe in the concept of "piling up treasure in heaven", ie. that this life is all we've got, that might be a truly selfless person. But it's the idea that oneself is worth absolutely less than everything else on earth, therefore one must try and do everything else which has nothing to do with themselves, and no benefit to themselves.
An example I can think of would be a fee-less, pimpless prostitute for whom sex feels dirty and wrong. Especially is she's a lesbian. I mean, it'd literally have to be something that gave you no warm feeling of helpfullness whatsoever inside. Because as soon as you get that, warm, *HAPPY*, helpful feeling, you start wanting to have more of it. And suddenly selfishness becomes intermingled.
I'd usually end with some kind of conclusion, but anyone reading this is smart enough to see the obvious connecting threads, so I'm going to skip any kind of a "wrap-up".
I really am interested to hear counter opinions. Again, this was all something I came up with while I was folding my laundry. It's not exactly an irrefutable philosophy.