The Courage to Be Disliked

by Ichiro Kishimi

  PHILOSOPHER: So what you are saying is that one needs lofty goals in life.

  YOUTH: But that’s obvious!

  “The courage to be normal”—what truly dreadful words. Are Adler and this philosopher really telling me to choose such a path? To go about my life as just another soul among the utterly ordinary, faceless masses? I’m no genius, of course. Maybe “normal” is the only choice I have. Maybe I will just have to accept my mediocre self and surrender to leading a mediocre, everyday existence. But I will fight it. Whatever happens, I will oppose this man to the bitter end. We seem to be approaching the heart of our discussion. The young man’s pulse was racing, and despite the wintry chill in the air, his clenched fists shone with sweat.

  Life Is a Series of Moments

  PHILOSOPHER: All right. When you speak of lofty goals, I am guessing that you have an image of something like a mountain climber aiming for the top.

  YOUTH: Yes, that’s right. People, myself included, aim for the top of the mountain.

  PHILOSOPHER: But if life were climbing a mountain in order to reach the top, then the greater part of life would end up being “en route.” That is to say, one’s “real life” would begin with one’s trek on the mountainside, and the distance one has traveled up until that point would be a “tentative life” led by a “tentative me.”

  YOUTH: I guess that’s one way of putting it. The way I am now, I am definitely an “en route” person.

  PHILOSOPHER: Now, suppose you didn’t make it to the mountaintop, what would that mean for your life? With accidents and diseases and the like, people don’t always make it all the way, and mountain climbing itself is fraught with pitfalls and often ends in failure. So one’s life would be interrupted “en route,” with just this “tentative me” leading a “tentative life.” What kind of life would that be?

  YOUTH: That’s . . . Well, that’d be a case of getting one’s just deserts. So I didn’t have the ability, or I didn’t have the physical strength to climb a mountain, or I wasn’t lucky, or I lacked the skill—that’s all! Yes, that is a reality I am prepared to accept.

  PHILOSOPHER: Adlerian psychology has a different standpoint. People who think of life as being like climbing a mountain are treating their own existences as lines. As if there is a line that started the instant one came into this world, and that continues in all manner of curves of varying sizes until it arrives at the summit, and then at long last reaches its terminus, which is death. This conception, which treats life as a kind of story, is an idea that links with Freudian etiology (the attributing of causes), and is a way of thinking that makes the greater part of life into something that is “en route.”

  YOUTH: Well, what is your image of life?

  PHILOSOPHER: Do not treat it as a line. Think of life as a series of dots. If you look through a magnifying glass at a solid line drawn with chalk, you will discover that what you thought was a line is actually a series of small dots. Seemingly linear existence is actually a series of dots; in other words, life is a series of moments.

  YOUTH: A series of moments?

  PHILOSOPHER: Yes. It is a series of moments called “now.” We can live only in the here and now. Our lives exist only in moments. Adults who do not know this attempt to impose “linear” lives onto young people. Their thinking is that staying on the conventional tracks—good university, big company, stable household—is a happy life. But life is not made up of lines or anything like that.

  YOUTH: So there’s no need for life planning or career planning?

  PHILOSOPHER: If life were a line, then life planning would be possible. But our lives are only a series of dots. A well-planned life is not something to be treated as necessary or unnecessary, as it is impossible.

  YOUTH: Oh, nonsense! What an absurd idea!

  Live Like You’re Dancing

  PHILOSOPHER: What is wrong with it?

  YOUTH: Your argument not only denies the making of plans in life, it goes as far as to deny even making efforts. Take, for example, the life of someone who has dreamed of being a violinist ever since childhood, and who, after years of strict training, has at long last become an active member in a celebrated orchestra. Or another life, one of intensive studies that successfully leads to the passing of the bar examination and becoming a lawyer. Neither of these lives would be possible without objectives and plans.

  PHILOSOPHER: So in other words, like mountain climbers aiming to reach the mountaintop, they have persevered on their paths?

  YOUTH: Of course!

  PHILOSOPHER: But is that really the case? Isn’t it that these people have lived each and every instant of their lives here and now? That is to say, rather than living lives that are “en route,” they are always living here and now. For example, the person who had dreams of becoming a violinist was always looking at pieces of music, and concentrating on each piece, and on each and every measure and note.

  YOUTH: Would they attain their objectives that way?

  PHILOSOPHER: Think of it this way: Life is a series of moments, which one lives as if one were dancing, right now, around and around each passing instant. And when one happens to survey one’s surroundings, one realizes, I guess I’ve made it this far. Among those who have danced the dance of the violin, there are people who stay the course and become professional musicians. Among those who have danced the dance of the bar examination, there are people who become lawyers. There are people who have danced the dance of writing and become authors. Of course, it also happens that people end up in entirely different places. But none of these lives came to an end “en route.” It is enough if one finds fulfillment in the here and now one is dancing.

  YOUTH: It’s enough if one can dance in the now?

  PHILOSOPHER: Yes. With dance, it is the dancing itself that is the goal, and no one is concerned with arriving somewhere by doing it. Naturally, it may happen that one arrives somewhere as a result of having danced. Since one is dancing, one does not stay in the same place. But there is no destination.

  YOUTH: A life without a destination, who ever heard of such a thing? Who would acknowledge such an unsteady life, that bends whichever way the wind blows?

  PHILOSOPHER: The kind of life that you speak of, which tries to reach a destination, may be termed a “kinetic (dynamic) life.” By contrast, the kind of dancing life I am talking about could be called an “energeial (actual-active-state) life.”

  YOUTH: Kinetic? Energeial?

  PHILOSOPHER: Let’s refer to Aristotle’s explanation. Ordinary motion—which is referred to as kinesis—has a starting point and an end point. The movement from the starting point to the end point is optimal if it is carried out as efficiently and as quickly as possible. If one can take an express train, there is no need to ride the local one that makes every stop.

  YOUTH: In other words, if one’s destination is to become a lawyer, it’s best to get there as quickly and as efficiently as one can.

  PHILOSOPHER: Yes. And the road one takes to get to that destination is, in the sense that one’s goal has not yet been reached, incomplete. This is kinetic life.

  YOUTH: Because it’s halfway?

  PHILOSOPHER: That’s right. Energeia, on the other hand, is a kind of movement in which what is “now forming” is what “has been formed.”

  YOUTH: What is “now forming” is what “has been formed”?

  PHILOSOPHER: One might also think of it as movement in which the process itself is treated as the outcome. Dance is like that, and so is a journey.

  YOUTH: Ah, I’m getting confused . . . What is this about a journey?

  PHILOSOPHER: What kind of goal is the act of going on a journey? Suppose you are going on a journey to Egypt. Would you try to arrive at the Great Pyramid of Giza as efficiently and quickly as possible, and then head straight back home by the shortest route? One would not call that a “journey.” You should be on a journey the moment you step outside your home, and all the moments on the way to your destination should be a journey. Of course, there mi
ght be circumstances that prevent you from making it to the pyramid, but that does not mean you didn’t go on a journey. This is “energeial life.”

  YOUTH: I guess I’m just not getting this. Weren’t you refuting the kind of value system of aiming for the mountaintop? What happens if you liken energeial life to mountain climbing?

  PHILOSOPHER: If the goal of climbing a mountain were to get to the top, that would be a kinetic act. To take it to the extreme, it wouldn’t matter if you went to the mountaintop in a helicopter, stayed there for five minutes or so, and then headed back in the helicopter again. Of course, if you didn’t make it to the mountaintop, that would mean the mountain-climbing expedition was a failure. However, if the goal is mountain climbing itself, and not just getting to the top, one could say it is energeial. In this case, in the end it doesn’t matter whether one makes it to the mountaintop or not.

  YOUTH: That sort of argument is just ridiculous! You’ve fallen into a completely self-defeating contradiction. Before you lose face before the whole wide world, I’ll cut through your shameless nonsense, once and for all.

  PHILOSOPHER: Oh, I’d be much obliged.

  Shine a Light on the Here and Now

  YOUTH: Look, in your refutation of etiology, you rejected focusing on the past. You said that the past does not exist, and that it has no meaning. I acknowledge those points. It is true that one cannot change the past. If there is something that can be changed, it is the future. But now, by advocating this energeial way of living, you are refuting planning; that is to say, you are rejecting even changing one’s future of one’s own volition. So while you reject looking back, you are rejecting looking forward, too. It’s like you’re telling me to just walk blindfolded along a pathless path.

  PHILOSOPHER: You can see neither behind you nor in front of you?

  YOUTH: That’s right, I can’t see!

  PHILOSOPHER: Isn’t that only natural? Where is the problem here?

  YOUTH: What? What are you talking about?

  PHILOSOPHER: Imagine that you are standing on a theater stage. If the house lights are on, you’ll probably be able to see all the way to the back of the hall. But if you’re under a bright spotlight, you won’t be able to make out even the front row. That’s exactly how it is with our lives. It’s because we cast a dim light on our entire lives that we are able to see the past and the future. Or at least we imagine we can. But if one is shining a bright spotlight on here and now, one cannot see the past or the future anymore.

  YOUTH: A bright spotlight?

  PHILOSOPHER: Yes. We should live more earnestly only here and now. The fact that you think you can see the past, or predict the future, is proof that rather than living earnestly here and now, you are living in a dim twilight. Life is a series of moments, and neither the past nor the future exists. You are trying to give yourself a way out by focusing on the past and the future. What happened in the past has nothing whatsoever to do with your here and now, and what the future may hold is not a matter to think about here and now. If you are living earnestly here and now, you will not be concerned with such things.

  YOUTH: But . . .

  PHILOSOPHER: When one adopts the point of view of Freudian etiology, one sees life as a kind of great big story based on cause and effect. So then it’s all about where and when I was born, what my childhood was like, the school I attended and the company where I got a job. And that decides who I am now and who I will become. To be sure, likening one’s life to a story is probably an entertaining job. The problem is, one can see the dimness that lies ahead at the end of the story. Moreover, one will try to lead a life that is in line with that story. And then one says, “My life is such-and-such, so I have no choice but to live this way, and it’s not because of me—it’s my past, it’s the environment,” and so on. But bringing up the past here is nothing but a way out, a life-lie. However, life is a series of dots, a series of moments. If you can grasp that, you will not need a story any longer.

  YOUTH: If you put it that way, the lifestyle that Adler is advocating is a kind of story, too.

  PHILOSOPHER: Lifestyle is about here and now, and is something that one can change of one’s own volition. The life of the past that looks like a straight line appears that way to you only as a result of your making ceaseless resolutions to not change. The life that lies ahead of you is a completely blank page, and there are no tracks that have been laid for you to follow. There is no story there.

  YOUTH: But that’s just living for the moment. Or worse, a vicious hedonism!

  PHILOSOPHER: No. To shine a spotlight on here and now is to go about doing what one can do now, earnestly and conscientiously.

  The Greatest Life-Lie

  YOUTH: To live earnestly and conscientiously?

  PHILOSOPHER: For example, one wants to get into a university but makes no attempt to study. This an attitude of not living earnestly here and now. Of course, maybe the entrance examination is still far off. Maybe one is not sure what needs to be studied or how thoroughly, and one finds it troublesome. However, it is enough to do it little by little—every day one can work out some mathematical formulas, one can memorize some words. In short, one can dance the dance. By doing so, one is sure to have a sense of “this is what I did today”; this is what today, this single day, was for. Clearly, today is not for an entrance examination in the distant future. And the same thing would hold true for your father, too—he was likely dancing earnestly the dance of his everyday work. He lived earnestly here and now, without having a grand objective or the need to achieve that objective. And, if that was the case, it would seem that your father’s life was a happy one.

  YOUTH: Are you telling me to affirm that way of living? That I should accept my father’s constantly work-burdened existence . . . ?

  PHILOSOPHER: There is no need to make yourself affirm it. Only instead of seeing his life as a line that he reached, start seeing how he lived it, see the moments of his life.

  YOUTH: The moments.

  PHILOSOPHER: And the same may be said with regard to your own life. You set objectives for the distant future, and think of now as your preparatory period. You think, I really want to do this, and I’ll do it when the time comes. This is a way of living that postpones life. As long as we postpone life, we can never go anywhere and will pass our days only one after the next in dull monotony, because we think of here and now as just a preparatory period, as a time for patience. But a “here and now” in which one is studying for an entrance examination in the distant future, for example, is the real thing.

  YOUTH: Okay, I’ll accept that. I can certainly accept living earnestly here and now, and not setting up some fabricated line. But I don’t have any dreams or objectives in my life. I don’t know what dance to do. My here and now is nothing but utterly useless moments.

  PHILOSOPHER: Not having objectives or the like is fine. Living earnestly here and now is itself a dance. One must not get too serious. Please do not confuse being earnest with being too serious.

  YOUTH: Be earnest but not too serious.

  PHILOSOPHER: That’s right. Life is always simple, not something that one needs to get too serious about. If one is living each moment earnestly, there is no need to get too serious.

  And there is another thing I would like you to keep in mind: When one has adopted an energeial viewpoint, life is always complete.

  YOUTH: It’s complete?

  PHILOSOPHER: If your life, or mine, for that matter, were to come to an end here and now, it would not do to refer to either of them as unhappy. The life that ends at the age of twenty and the life that ends at ninety are both complete lives, and lives of happiness.

  YOUTH: So if I have lived earnestly here and now, those moments will always be complete?

  PHILOSOPHER: Exactly. Now, I have used the word “life-lie” again and again throughout our discussion. I would like to conclude by talking about the greatest life-lie of all.

  YOUTH: Please do.

  PHILOSOPHER: The greatest li
fe-lie of all is to not live here and now. It is to look at the past and the future, cast a dim light on one’s entire life, and believe that one has been able to see something. Until now, you have turned away from the here and now and shone a light only on invented pasts and futures. You have told a great lie to your life, to these irreplaceable moments.

  YOUTH: Oh, okay!

  PHILOSOPHER: So cast away the life-lie and fearlessly shine a bright spotlight on here and now. That is something you can do.

  YOUTH: That is something I can do? Do you think I have in me the courage to live out these moments earnestly, without resorting to the life-lie?

  PHILOSOPHER: Since neither the past nor the future exists, let’s talk about now. It’s not yesterday or tomorrow that decides it. It’s here and now.

  Give Meaning to Seemingly Meaningless Life

  YOUTH: What are you saying?

  PHILOSOPHER: I think this discussion has now reached the water’s edge. Whether you drink the water or not is entirely up to you.

  YOUTH: Ah, maybe Adlerian psychology, and your philosophy, are actually changing me. Maybe I am trying to let go of my resolve not to change, and choose a new way of living, a new lifestyle . . . But wait, there is one last thing I’d like to ask.

  PHILOSOPHER: And what would that be?

  YOUTH: When life is taken as a series of moments, as existing only here and now, what meaning could it possibly have? For what was I born, and for what am I enduring this life of hardship until I reach my last gasp? The point of it all is beyond me.

  PHILOSOPHER: What is the meaning of life? What are people living for? When someone posed these questions to Adler, this was his answer: “Life in general has no meaning.”

  YOUTH: Life is meaningless?

  PHILOSOPHER: The world in which we live is constantly beset by all manner of horrendous events, and we exist with the ravages of war and natural disasters all around us. When confronted by the fact of children dying in the turmoil of war, there is no way one can go on about the meaning of life. In other words, there is no meaning in using generalizations to talk about life. But being confronted by such incomprehensible tragedies without taking any action is tantamount to affirming them. Regardless of the circumstances, we must take some form of action. We must stand up to Kant’s “inclination.”