We have previously discussed the inexorable march of human progress and its effects on society, but let us now consider its effect on us as individuals. As we have tamed the world around us, we have eliminated the dangers and discomforts of . We operate on autopilot, performing routine tasks and duties with minor variations, ingesting and reciting pop culture and, increasingly, filling every idle moment with a stream of content from some digital device. We may, on occasion, exercise our “free will” or contemplate our personal goals to shape our actions, but we ultimately operate on the premise of satisfying our every fleeting urge and fulfilling our social expectation, without ever stopping to consider the urge itself or the consequences of our action.
How many moments in a day are you awake? Not the number of hours you spend with your eyes open, but the number of instances when you make a deliberate, introspective analysis of yourself, your thoughts, and your desires, and then act accordingly? For almost all of us, the answer is certainly zero. Introspecting upon ourselves and adjusting our behaviors necessitate a certain amount of discomfort.
For example, even something as trivial as saying “bless you” in response to a sneeze is the product of an implicit expectation of the social contract. But even these trivialities deserve some critical reflection. What is the purpose of this reflexive response to someone else’s autonomic bodily function? There are archaic attributions to preventing spirits or souls from entering or exiting one’s body, and in other cultures the response to a sneeze is often a variant of “to your health!” But certainly even the most devout no longer believe a sneeze is a demon, let alone the rest of us; similarly, while wishing someone health may seem polite, it is also entirely meaningless.
Of course this is now itself an autonomic nicety, some harmless relic from centuries past, but it is representative of the insidious power of coercion to shape our behavior and our lives, often without our own awareness. In the face of lifelong conditioning, it requires less effort to not say “bless you” than to say it.
This is partially a product of evolution. The evolutionary pressure on every living being is to expend the least amount of energy. Discomfort elicits a reaction, and reactions burn calories; calories are scarce, and thus it is a viable strategy to exert some additional effort now to avoid discomfort later. So we remain in a seemingly unique evolutionary situation where scarcity is and higher consciousness has formed, but our limbic survival instincts tell us to minimize exertion and conserve energy.
Yet this instinct for sloth is extolled as a virtue in neoliberal societies and depicted as the ultimate goal of humanity: a life free of effort or discomfort or negative sensation, an existence whiled away in . So we are encouraged to consume and distract ourselves, to silence our inner thoughts with a steady stream of sensory overload and recreational or pharmaceutical chemicals.
Nietzsche implored us to “live dangerously,” not as an invitation to death but as an affirmation of life. When we are faced with danger– true, grave danger– we are existing solely in the moment, not dwelling on the past or fantasizing about the future. We are aware of every sensory input and every muscular action, even if the adrenaline overwhelms us and makes our recollection of the incident hazy; in fact, it is that very focus that makes the memory hazy, as our mind is preoccupied with the moment and has fewer resources for processing memories.
Of course, defying death is not the only way to achieve consciousness, nor is it the most practical for most people. But for those who have had their mortality imminently threatened, there is no sensation in our daily lives that can focus the mind quite like those harrowing moments when death is on the line. That is why many people who have a near-death experience emerge with a sense of newfound clarity, a re-commitment to mindfulness and purposeful living.
But as we’ve discussed above, that mindfulness is often quickly snuffed out by the onslaught of distractions and pressures of modern life, and they return to old habits in short order.
On the opposite end of the spectrum, Eastern philosophies have recognized this inclination since ancient times. Buddhism, Taoism, and Hinduism (and their respective derivatives) all place an emphasis on mindfulness and conscious living. This mindfulness is achieved through meditation, which is, at its most basic, the act of looking inward. Meditation teaches us to block both the internal and external noise in our lives– sensory distractions and purposeless mental chatter– in order to quiet our mind and build our internal tolerance for, essentially, boredom. It is only when we can feel content and satisfied even with this state of boredom that we are said to be at peace with ourselves.
Once we have attained this inner peace, we can return to the outer world with the ability to filter out the distractions and trivialities. With the noise tuned out, we can focus our minds on finding the truth, whatever that may mean for each of us personally. We can examine the world as it is, and ourselves as we are; we can observe the faults in each and work towards health and healing.
Now, in many ways this practice is even more difficult than nihilism’s decree of dangerous living. The modern world demands our energy and our attention, toiling away in a self-serving cycle of production and consumption and otherwise filling the idle moments with artificial conflicts and carefully-crafted dopamine triggers. The alienation and isolation of capitalist society make us feel as though we are in competition with one another; the ostensible comfort of cities and suburbs make us seem disconnected from nature. Mindfulness is the practice of seeing past these superficial boundaries and breaking free of our conditioned routines in order to make every thought, word, and action a conscious choice.
Committing to mindful or conscious living is a constant, difficult, and demanding goal, and that is why it is a foundational tenet of the Savior Self. A rational, conscious being is crucial to a harmonious existence. When we remember that we are connected with our fellow humans and with the world at large, we may act freely and without the need for gods or masters because we will recognize that any harm that we inflict upon the world will harm ourselves as well.
Humans should live consciously and reflect on their thoughts, behaviors, motivations, and emotions.
Tenet 5 of the Savior Self
It is a goal that, even after years of devout practice, is not permanently attainable. As with all tenets of the Savior Self, conscious living is aspirational, a goal towards which we should work every day. When we find ourselves faltering in our commitment– whether deliberately or, more likely, unconsciously– we must have the grace to forgive ourselves, the strength to introspect and find the reasons, and the will to gently re-align ourselves back towards the goal.
It is important to note that conscious living is not necessarily ascetic living. A conscious being is free to indulge in sensory pleasures and even pursue a fully hedonistic lifestyle if they believe it is the path to their happiness; the goal of mindfulness is to simply consider each decision and its consequences before making it, rather than to simply surrender to our natural urges or to social programming.
