Yesterday, we learned a little bit about objectivism. While I agreed with many of Brian Blase's points on the subject of governmental regulations, it is hard to accept a philosophy that decries charity in all forms. Ayn Rand wrote, "[Man] must live for his own sake, he must work for his rational self-interest, with the achievement of his own happiness as the highest moral purpose of his life." It is difficult to assess this statement completely, because I think to some extent, none of us would be truly happy unless those around us were happy as well.
If you're like me, about 99 percent of your day is geared towards doing things for yourself. Doing your homework, eating, laundry, going to class, to the gym, to the store; attending meetings for organizations based on your interests. Even talking to friends on the phone or online can be self-serving -- sure, you're talking with them, but how often is it because you're trying to help them with their problems? It's hard to reorganize our priorities because there's always this cloud of existentialism hanging over our heads, this idea that we must put our own needs ahead of the needs of others. In flight attendant lingo: secure your own oxygen mask before assisting others. That's a pretty dismal outlook.
I don't believe that humans are inherently misanthropic, just incredibly self-important. We've been raised to think about the life course in competitive, rather than cooperative, terms. Our culture values the player who makes the slam dunk, not the teammate who makes the assist. After a while, the ego Olympics will wear us down and we need to take a breather.
Although the irony of calling last week's vacation "spring" break is not lost on me, it arrived just in the nick of time this year. Even though spring has not yet sprung, it was definitely time to break out of the usual routine of "taking care of number one" and worry about something other than myself.
Alternative Spring Break was just what the doctor ordered. Along with a friend of mine, I coordinated a trip to Florida to spend a week working in the Everglades National Park. Whether or not the data we collected on water levels in solution holes was useful to the Park Service, organizing the trip itself was a nice vacation from trying to organize my personal life. Don't get me wrong: Driving 1,200 miles was no easy task, and the week presented myriad little difficulties for us to overcome, but in the context of making a difference, none of it ever seemed like a chore.
At the end of the day, I would rather be worrying about the specifics of cooking Tex-Mex for nine people than worrying about a paper I have due the next week. The difference between these two anxieties is that the payoff for the former is preparing a meal for eight awesome people, the latter: sleep deprivation in the name of self-edification. Cooking dinner is always a nice switch when you live in the residence halls because (1) as my mother always says, "It always tastes better when you make it yourself"; and (2) it's fun to do something nice for other people. For me, these reasons are better incentives than the vague promise of fulfillment that accompanies the non-practical elements of my schooling. Maybe not all the time, but now and again doing something practical like cooking dinner for a group helps keep those less concrete educational experiences in perspective.
Working outdoors, rediscovering the forgotten pleasure of eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich out of a plastic bag and the forgotten difficulty of trying to properly open a Capri Sun -- small things can help you to realize what is really important and what the real priorities in life are.
Self-sacrifice brings its own joys that are far greater than comforts offered by narcissistic indulgence. In my yoga class, this principle was called tapas, which means "discipline" in Sanskrit. "Pain is a purifier. Accept it, but do not cause it," said the instructor. "Always give each other perfect happiness." I never really understood what this meant until recently. Altruism is not compulsory; if it were, it wouldn't really be altruism. However, it cannot be denied that beneficence promotes positive interaction in society whereas miserliness or indifference nurtures only corruption.
Spring break is over, the weather is warming, and the hills of Happy Valley are slowly becoming greener. Soon, many of us will start heading outdoors in search of relaxation, but no amount of sunbathing or ultimate Frisbee on the HUB lawn will relax you as long as you are solely focused on your own problems -- and there will always be problems. Instead, seize every chance you get to "give perfect happiness."



