Animism
Sunday, September 5th, 2010I consider myself to be an animist, although not in the traditional sense. I do not necessarily believe that the rocks, the trees, the muskrats have a spirit of sorts within them. I would not discount the potential for this to be the case either, however, nor discredit someone else for having such a literal belief, but it is not mine. My animism is related to the traditional. It stems directly from how I view the world, and where I view my own and humanity’s place within it.
Allow me to explain.
I am, as much as anyone else alive today, a child of reason. Through science especially, but more truthfully through all aspects of my education, save one exception which I shall come to later, as well as most of my thinking until rather recently has been either developing this belief in this. To see the world in a rational, logical way.
Cogito ergo sum. I no longer hold with this, but I understand why many do. There is certainty in it. By the nature of perception, I can be sure of nothing, I can prove nothing, save that I myself perceive. I can be certain only of my own existence. This certainty is satisfying, anyone who has a basic understanding of science, for example, knows that science cannot be used to prove anything. The whole of this Cartesian reason is just like science, nothing can be conclusively proven except, of course, your own existence.
There is truth to this, for what its worth. When you strip away all the adornment around pure reason, you arrive at Descartes’s statement. To be a child of reason is to define yourself, to define your being, everything that you are, based solely on your ability to think. To reason. To know.
This works for some people, I am not like that. Even when I thought I was, when I tried to live through reason alone, I knew on some level that it was not so, that it was a completely unsatisfactory way to live. While thinking, reasoning and knowing were important to me, they were not me completely. They were, to put it mathematically, necessary but not sufficient conditions.
Then, after going on like this for years, knowing on an unconscious level that Cartesian pure reason did not work for me, came the change in my education. That change was a single course taken during a single term. But it was pivotal in my development. It was existentialism.
Like Cartesian reason, existentialism can be reduced to a simple principle. Although at present I lack a universally recognizable Latin phrase, it comes down to I act purposefully therefore I am. In existentialism, you define yourself through your actions. Whether or not you believe that purpose exists to them, whether you are yourself capable of knowing or understanding that purpose, or whether it only exists if you yourself invent it is irrelevant, merely shades of the colour of existentialism.
When first learning about existentialism, when I was developing my ideas of it in my head, I adopted the belief that there was no universal purpose to anything and that none of any sort existed. This was as unsatisfying as Cartesian pure reason. Beyond that, it was even less practical. While not strictly an existentialist, Nietzsche’s Übermensch was supposed to take every action in a purposeful way, that is to be conscious of every action and decision. How can one be purposeful when the actions themselves are supposed to lack purpose?
So I softened by existentialism. I still rejected universals, especially a universal purpose behind anything, for I did believe and agree with Nietzsche when he spoke of the death of God at our hands. But why could there not be a more practical, personal purpose? Not just purpose which we created to comfort ourselves, but a real, tangible purpose which was individualized. Such a thing as a measure of our actions was satisfying to me, and I remained with this colour of existentialism for a time.
However, like Descartes’s pure reason, existentialism did not provide me with a complete world view. Even the colour I preferred was lacking. It was interesting to think about, enjoyable to practice for small periods of time, but in the end completely unsatisfying. Even though I had defined purpose within it, to me it still felt as though purpose was lacking. From the point of view of pure reason, I could only be sure of my existence through thinking, from existentialism, through my actions.
The problem is that I’ve never been concerned about whether I exist or not. Whether I can prove it with reason or not, whether I can justify it through logic is irrelevant. Common sense tells me I exist. My own existence is something I consider self evident. Common sense tells me that the people around me exist, whether or I can prove that they think, which I cannot, or whether I can prove that their actions are taken consciously, which again I cannot. They still exist, to pretend otherwise is foolhardy and is the seed of many wrongs. These rational structures, Cartesian reason and existentialism, fail because by rationalizing the reality around them, trying to justify everything, they fail to grasp what is important. They get caught up in irrelevant details, like futilely attempting to prove that a given being exists.
So I exist. And you exist. And the world exist. So does the rest of the universe. I don’t need to see it, don’t need to touch it, to know this. The existence of these things is as self evident to me as the nonexistence of other things. Does god exist? As a universal system of morality, perhaps. As a flesh and blood being, or a being of some other literal composition? No. That is, however, for another time.
Here, however, we come to the seed that is the centre of by animism: Things exist. But, of course, existing is not in and of itself satisfying to me, since both by Cartesian pure reason and existentialism I existed if I was careful. Of course, now other things exist, but what of it? Is that enough? Is simply existing sufficient? It is conceivable that a pill could be formed which contains all the nutrition a human needs for a single day. Would being sustained by such a thing be as satisfying as living, sustaining yourself on real food? Both are, from the point of view of existence alone, equal prospects. Eating is not done just for sustenance, but also for enjoyment. As is being not just existing but living. What then is the seperation between existing and living?
I spoke of the death of god. Its death applies here. There cannot be a universal separation between existing and living. My separation involves purpose. Is there purpose to anything? I would answer yes. What of meaning, can an action have meaning? Can a natural occurrence have meaning? What of emotions?
Here is where I depart from the rational belief structures drastically. My animism, like the more traditional variations of it, is spiritual in nature. I cannot, nor shall I try, to rationalize it through any logical means. To do so would be contrary to its nature and would render it as unsatisfactory and empty as the other systems I talked about.
My belief is that there is purpose, nothing grand, nothing specific, but purpose nonetheless. The purpose of existence, with life an important part of it, is beauty. Not perfection. Not facts. Perhaps nothing even tangible. There is beauty in the natural as there is in the human. Human imitation of the natural can possess beauty, as can creations of a purely human nature. To be utilitarian is not to be beautiful, although utilitarian objects can still possess their own beauty. Again, god is dead, these are personal, not universal, in nature.
The purpose of life is therefore beauty, the enjoyment, creation and study of it. Since the natural world possesses this beauty, the natural scientist, for example, can lead a purposeful existence. This is important to me as, while I am not a scientist nor am I even training to be one presently, it is a position I have always respected and admired. The artist, be their medium visual, aural, written or dramatic is therefore on par with the natural scientist, as they study and create their own brand and style of beauty. And we are all on equal footing when we take it all in and enjoy these works.
The only morally reprehensible act, therefore, is the intentional destruction of beauty. This must, of course, be taken with common sense. The destruction of an insect or a weed is not on the same level as the destruction of a greater beast, such as a human. Destruction for its own sake is unforgivable, but if a greater beauty could be formed from the initial destruction then perhaps all can be forgiven.
“The cut worm forgives the plough”, as a wise man once said.
My animism substitutes the spirits found in more traditional animism for beauty, but keeps the most important aspect intact: that people, like animals, are just part of the environment in which they live. That any action taken has consequences, and while I won’t have any sort of ceremony of prayer for what becomes my food, I will be certain to attempt to minimize the harmful or negative responses to my actions.
For now, the final word on this also belongs to William Blake, “the fool sees not the same tree a wise man sees.” My beauty is not the same beauty you see, and we should try our best to respect that and not force our own beliefs on each other.