The End of An Era



As the sappiest person in the entire world, I’m really sorry that this reflection is going to be way unnecessarily touchy-feely for a class discussion post.
Let’s talk about bad faith. Reading the material, I was struggling to really put my finger on what made bad faith bad. The example from class where I really felt like the nuance clicked for me was the example that involved doing something for your family but convincing yourself it’s because you want to versus doing something for your family because you realize family is important to you and you’d rather do something you’re not entirely happy with to please them. The difference is subtle but powerful. The results are the same, but the intent matters. Existentialism is intentional.
Being in this class has allowed me to hear so many perspectives that I would not have heard otherwise. The readings often opened my eyes, confused me, frustrated me. The other students constantly allowed me to evolve in my understanding of the material. Even when I did not agree, it was a blessing to hear everyone’s perspective. Sometimes it was the people I disagreed with that forced me to examine my own views the most, and I appreciated that instead of shutting down conversation we were always opening up. That’s what I’ll miss most about Tuesday nights.
It is terrifying to be thrust into this world. In moments of stress, I often find myself thinking “I wish I could press pause just so I could gather my thoughts.” But we can’t press pause on our lives or our existence, and ready or not we have to deal with it.
I always think back to Camus’ writing on suicide, and his view that while suicide feels like rebellion, the most rebellious thing we can do is choose to live in absurdity. He says that “suicide is a confession.” Every time I went to class, I felt like we were all in on a secret, like we were all taking part in a sort of confession. To talk about existentialism requires admitting that we’re all confused about our meaning, that it takes effort to make meaning out of absurdity. I’m so appreciative of the moments each person took to be vulnerable.
In the words of Solomon, “one self-righteously finds herself as the creator of meaning, which heightens one’s role as absurd hero, prophet, revolutionary, as ‘underground,’ rebel, saint, or buffoon.” As terrifying as it is to come face to face with the meaninglessness of life, it is also exciting and inspiring to create that meaning. It takes a lot of confidence, and I often feel unqualified for the choices I make about my own life. But it’s all we have. And it is up to us to believe in ourselves, to understand ourselves, all in “good faith.”
Existentialism, ultimately, is the realization that we have none of the answers to the questions that bother us most. And paradoxically, we have all the answers. That power is intimidating and inspiring all at once.

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