Meaning
July 28, 2016 at 4:25 p.m.
By -
A man once told me a story about his family cat named Gypsy. This man kind of envied his family cat. Why? Because he felt that Gypsy was not faced with the bewildering questions of life which he was confronted with on a daily basis.
In essence, questions like why do I believe this way and why do I act that way. To him Gypsy was already perfect in her catness. See Gypsy never doubts or asks whether she should not eat the mouse, nor does she feel remorse or guilt when she does. Gypsy never asks, "Why?" because instincts preclude her form having to ask the questions.
However, unlike Gypsy's, it would seem that only a portion of our own beliefs and actions are instinctive? Beyond the limits of the animal instincts we share with Gypsy, there are an immense number of questions about how we should act and what we should believe, from the most mundane (what we should wear?) to the most momentous (do we believe in God?). Questions of meaning which I would presume the family cat Gypsy would be unaware.
It seems at times dogmas and rituals function as human forms of instincts, which take over to guide our actions and beliefs where Gypsy's catness leaves off. Knowing not what we must do. Or even what we should do. Nor what we wish to do. We look for clues from others? Consequently, conformity seems to be the collective strategy for relieving us from the unbearable experience of contemplating the why questions of life.
No doubt, this man envied his family cat Gypsy because she did not have to answer the why questions of life. We go to work, have children, eat meat (or don't eat meat), believe in this and act on that. A lot of times it seems we simply accept the norms (dogmas) of our culture because it is easier. In contrast, asking the why questions signals the point at which we step back from what we are doing to look for a reason, or justification for what we do. We have to ask ourselves where obedience ends and personal responsibility begins.
Unlike Gypsy the satisfaction of our instinctual needs is not sufficient to keep us happy; actually they are not even sufficient to keep us sane. Unlike our instinctual needs, our uniquely human or ideological needs have no limits. The why questions of life cannot be fulfilled in the same way that our hunger is satisfied after a Thanksgiving dinner. However, meaningless seems to occur when the why questions - once they are raised - remain unanswered.
This gentleman envied his family cat Gypsy because she did not have to ponder the why questions of life. Gypsy does not have to find meaning in what it seems sometimes a meaningless world. Gypsy does not have to depend on the same old stories when dogmas and rituals fail to answer the why questions of life. Maybe there are no answers just choices.
Bennie Hively
Warsaw, via e-mail[[In-content Ad]]
A man once told me a story about his family cat named Gypsy. This man kind of envied his family cat. Why? Because he felt that Gypsy was not faced with the bewildering questions of life which he was confronted with on a daily basis.
In essence, questions like why do I believe this way and why do I act that way. To him Gypsy was already perfect in her catness. See Gypsy never doubts or asks whether she should not eat the mouse, nor does she feel remorse or guilt when she does. Gypsy never asks, "Why?" because instincts preclude her form having to ask the questions.
However, unlike Gypsy's, it would seem that only a portion of our own beliefs and actions are instinctive? Beyond the limits of the animal instincts we share with Gypsy, there are an immense number of questions about how we should act and what we should believe, from the most mundane (what we should wear?) to the most momentous (do we believe in God?). Questions of meaning which I would presume the family cat Gypsy would be unaware.
It seems at times dogmas and rituals function as human forms of instincts, which take over to guide our actions and beliefs where Gypsy's catness leaves off. Knowing not what we must do. Or even what we should do. Nor what we wish to do. We look for clues from others? Consequently, conformity seems to be the collective strategy for relieving us from the unbearable experience of contemplating the why questions of life.
No doubt, this man envied his family cat Gypsy because she did not have to answer the why questions of life. We go to work, have children, eat meat (or don't eat meat), believe in this and act on that. A lot of times it seems we simply accept the norms (dogmas) of our culture because it is easier. In contrast, asking the why questions signals the point at which we step back from what we are doing to look for a reason, or justification for what we do. We have to ask ourselves where obedience ends and personal responsibility begins.
Unlike Gypsy the satisfaction of our instinctual needs is not sufficient to keep us happy; actually they are not even sufficient to keep us sane. Unlike our instinctual needs, our uniquely human or ideological needs have no limits. The why questions of life cannot be fulfilled in the same way that our hunger is satisfied after a Thanksgiving dinner. However, meaningless seems to occur when the why questions - once they are raised - remain unanswered.
This gentleman envied his family cat Gypsy because she did not have to ponder the why questions of life. Gypsy does not have to find meaning in what it seems sometimes a meaningless world. Gypsy does not have to depend on the same old stories when dogmas and rituals fail to answer the why questions of life. Maybe there are no answers just choices.
Bennie Hively
Warsaw, via e-mail[[In-content Ad]]
Have a news tip? Email [email protected] or Call/Text 360-922-3092