O ME! O life!... of the questions of these recurring;
Of the endless trains of the faithlessof cities filld with the foolish;
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more
faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the lightof the objects meanof the struggle ever
renewd;
Of the poor results of allof the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me;
Of the empty and useless years of the restwith the rest me intertwined;
The question, O me! so sad, recurringWhat good amid these, O me, O life?
Answer.
That you are herethat life exists, and identity;
That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.
- Walt Whitman
For me, probably the most difficult thing in life is to resist nihilism, which can often seem to be the most direct, honest, and terrible interpretation of life. Not long ago, I wrote something on the topic: "Once youve forgotten about gods, once youve come to the unshakeable sense that there are only mortals, and that gods are neither here nor there, you soon become acutely aware of the sensibility of nihilism as a philosophy; at the core of things, if we are all that there is, and all that was before us is now gone, as we soon will be, then whats the point of existence? Im not sure theres a point in a classical sense; Im not sure theres anything that appeals to our primitive selves, to the more basic parts of us that are still young and emotional and hopeful and credulous. But then, in the scheme of everything, in the sheer magnitude of our miraculous existence, should there be such a point? Why do we insist on more than the time weve been given?"
In essence, nihilism is a product of our own vanity, of our own demand that life has to have answers. But it doesn't have to. Like Whitman said, we are here. And if this is all we have, shouldn't we make the most of it?