A CONFESSION [17]
I saw that this was the worthiest way of escape and I wished
to adopt it.
The fourth way out is that of weakness. It consists in seeing
the truth of the situation and yet clinging to life, knowing in
advance that nothing can come of it. People of this kind know that
death is better than life, but not having the strength to act
rationally -- to end the deception quickly and kill themselves --
they seem to wait for something. This is the escape of weakness,
for if I know what is best and it is within my power, why not yield
to what is best? ... I found myself in that category.
So people of my class evade the terrible contradiction in four
ways. Strain my attention as I would, I saw no way except those
four. One way was not to understand that life is senseless,
vanity, and an evil, and that it is better not to live. I could
not help knowing this, and when I once knew it could not shut my
eyes to it. the second way was to use life such as it is without
thinking of the future. And I could not do that. I, like Sakya
Muni, could not ride out hunting when I knew that old age,
suffering, and death exist. My imagination was too vivid. Nor
could I rejoice in the momentary accidents that for an instant
threw pleasure to my lot. The third way, having under stood that
life is evil and stupid, was to end it by killing oneself. I
understood that, but somehow still did not kill myself. The fourth
way was to live like Solomon and Schopenhauer -- knowing that life
is a stupid joke played upon us, and still to go on living, washing
oneself, dressing, dining, talking, and even writing books. This
was to me repulsive and tormenting, but I remained in that
position.
I see now that if I did not kill myself it was due to some dim
consciousness of the invalidity of my thoughts. However convincing
and indubitable appeared to me the sequence of my thoughts and of
those of the wise that have brought us to the admission of the
senselessness of life, there remained in me a vague doubt of the
justice of my conclusion.
It was like this: I, my reason, have acknowledged that life
is senseless. If there is nothing higher than reason (and there is
not: nothing can prove that there is), then reason is the creator
of life for me. If reason did not exist there would be for me no
life. How can reason deny life when it is the creator of life? Or
to put it the other way: were there no life, my reason would not
exist; therefore reason is life's son. Life is all. Reason is its
fruit yet reason rejects life itself! I felt that there was
something wrong here.
Life is a senseless evil, that is certain, said I to myself.
Yet I have lived and am still living, and all mankind lived and
lives. How is that? Why does it live, when it is possible not to
live? Is it that only I and Schopenhauer are wise enough to
understand the senselessness and evil of life?
The reasoning showing the vanity of life is not so difficult,
and has long been familiar to the very simplest folk; yet they have
lived and still live. How is it they all live and never think of
doubting the reasonableness of life?
My knowledge, confirmed by the wisdom of the sages, has shown
me that everything on earth -- organic and inorganic -- is all most
cleverly arranged -- only my own position is stupid. and those
fools -- the enormous masses of people -- know nothing about how
everything organic and inorganic in the world is arranged; but they
live, and it seems to them that their life is very wisely arranged!
...
And it struck me: "But what if there is something I do not
yet know? Ignorance behaves just in that way. Ignorance always
says just what I am saying. When it does not know something, it
says that what it does not know is stupid. Indeed, it appears that
there is a whole humanity that lived and lives as if it understood
the meaning of its life, for without understanding it could not
live; but I say that all this life is senseless and that I cannot
live.
"Nothing