Dear Herculodge: Can You Tell Me What's Wrong With Me?

Dear Herculodge, 

What’s happened to me? I used to be an intellectual. I used to care about ideas. I used to read voraciously. I used to hang out in cafes and have long talks with like-minded folks about philosophy, politics, you know, real “issues.”

Over the years, however, as I have nestled into my creature comforts and my reliable routine, I find myself numb at times, indifferent at other times, and downright cynical most of the time.

I get excited every now and then by a fine glass of wine, a decent meal in a restaurant, some new gadget or other, or some new song on the radio. But for the most part I feel like I’m in a funk. Am I experiencing a common midlife crisis or is this something deeper?

 

Dear Reader,

The short answer to your question is that you’re suffering from a condition known as ennui, a general boredom with life. A longer answer might be that you are becoming, like most of us languishing through Modern Life, the kind of creature Nietzsche dreaded—the Last Man, a well-fed, consumer who relying on technological advancement and science for his wellbeing finds himself to be somewhat of a spiritual eunuch.

 

People deal with their ennui in many ways. Some go on spiritual quests, venturing to exotic, remote parts of the world and finding a gaunt guru. Others find a deity to their liking and an institution that packages their deity in a way that seems palatable. Still others join web chat groups where people obsess over some consumer product—watches, shoes, handbags, cars—which becomes a proxy for religious worship. Others become lost in creative work or some political ideal. Others become obsessed with finding romantic or erotic love, which becomes a sort of abyss where they become eternally lost and distracted.

I’m sorry I cannot prescribe some one-size-fits-all solution to your crisis. Nor can I offer you Ultimate Truth on a silver platter. But at least you’re aware that something is not right inside of you, which is evidence that there is some kind of life still roiling in your veins.

All I can do is leave you with a quote from Franz Kafka: “Truth is what every man needs in order to live, but can obtain or purchase from no one. Each man must reproduce it from within, otherwise he must perish.”

 

 

 

Comments

[Ed S.]

I think all people with normal intelligence at one time or another have felt these pangs of existential emptiness. In other times, religious beliefs filled in the hole. Withe the "death of god" and the consumer, value-less society we find ourselves in, it's no wonder more people don't feel this way. At the end of the day, I think most people find solace in human connections, and realize their family was what was truly important... "The best things in life aren't things."

[jeffrey McMahon]

Speaking of human connections, on KPCC's Pat Morrison a few days ago, they were talking about buying smaller houses in this age of increased fuel costs and callers didn't mind sacrificing house size as long as they could have big kitchens. A big kitchen represented the place where friends and family gather and socialize and this was the ideal that made them fond of the idea of a home. Indeed, the best things in life aren't things.

[kr]

jeff, nice response on this.

[jeffrey McMahon]

Thanks for the feedback. It amazes me how that Kafka quote has stayed with me over the last 25 years.