We must imagine Sisyphus jacked
In 1942 the French-Algerian philosopher Albert Camus wrote a philosophical essay entitled "The myth of Sisyphus". In this 170 page work, Camus introduces the concept of the absurd. Building on the Nietzschean nihilism before him, Camus observes man's striving for meaning and purpose in an indifferent universe. He calls this terrifying juxtaposition "the absurd". Famously the essay starts with a bleak outlook on life. Camus writes: "There is but one truly serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide".
Camus is asking the reader why should we endure the vicissitudes of life. Why not just end it all? This thinking is the culmination of the European renaissance characterised by the progress of science, rationalism and secularism - which results in religion taking a back seat. The "Death of God" as Nietzsche called it immediately raises the question of the meaning of life. The God-given purpose of life as is prescribed by religious doctrine is now replaced by a vacuous confusion as the secular man now has to find his own meaning.
We can look to biology for inspiration - perhaps the meaning is somewhat Darwinian. To reproduce and take care of offspring for genetic propagation. But honestly I don't think most people care about their genes. They care about sex, but because it feels good. I am very far detached from the desire to propagate my MC1R gene which contributes to my brown hair. Perhaps we can take a utilitarian outlook and find meaning in making life "better" for ourselves and others. Its not necessarily clear what "better" means but reducing human suffering is one idea that is often thrown around. However if the reduction of human suffering is indeed "better" the modern human in the west would be deliriously happy compared to our prehistoric ancestors who didn't have central heating, or medicine or the ability to access food with the click of a button. However observationally, most people don't seem deliriously happy. Quite the contrary most young people seem more depressed than ever.
Whichever outlook one takes, the purpose of life in absence of God is certainly arbitrary. There is no intrinsic meaning and therefore if one desires meaning one must create their own. The difficulty of doing so is twofold. First of all, without an intrinsic God-given meaning, maintaining conviction in your own constructed meaning can be very difficult. It's easy to revert to nihilism when things get tough. At the same time, life is exhausting. Every day you eat and shit and brush your teeth over and over and over again. The repetitive banality of existence can make it difficult to endure.
Camus gives us several escape hatches. For a more comprehensive treatment you can read the original text but the theme is a heroic rebellion of the absurd. He offers the creation of art which does not need to justify its own existence. He gives us the absurd man, who embodies an absurd attitude to life from actor, to lover to conqueror. Finally Camus closes with the Myth of Sisyphus. The parable of a man who repeatedly tricked the Gods - and for his defiance is condemned to forever roll a boulder up a hill only to watch it roll back down again.
In Camus' view, Sisyphus although condemned is fully aware of the absurd and is therefore somehow victorious. Meaning isn't found in the goal but precisely in the banal struggle itself. Camus' absurd hero recognises the indifferent universe and smiles right back at it. And with this Camus closes the Myth of Sisyphus with the famous line:
We must imagine Sisyphus happy.
Camus gives us an honest and exceedingly serious outlook on the essence of meaning after the death of God. However it is one that many people find altogether unsatisfying. Is life really just about rolling the same fucking boulder up and the same goddamn hill every day? Is it really all just stoicism in the end? It is our decision to smile at the meaninglessness of it all and smile somewhat helplessly as we admit that life is shit but the boulder needs to go keep rolling up that damn hill.
I think that with only a slight modification stemming from a common-sense observation of life we can do much better than Camus and transcend our Sisyphean existence. The observation is the following:
It's not the same Sisyphus rolling the same boulder up the same hill. Every time Sisyphus starts rolling his boulder he's a little bit stronger from yesterday's workout. He's learned the boulder intimately - every nook and cranny over the boulder's surface. He learns better paths up the hill. He gets a feel for the boulder's center of mass - manipulating it with ease. He's carved paths over the hill's rocky terrain to offer a smoother ascent. After the 10,000th time he's pushed his boulder Sisyphus is much better equipped and much more confident. He wakes up looking forward to his impossible task - knowing that every day he's getting better and better.
This refocus on improvement brings to mind not the neurotic and pathological self-improvement gurus of YouTube. Instead it represents the archetype of the 70 year old Japanese swordsmith or sushi master. He has perfected his art - he has over time attained mastery in his Sisyphian task and executes with a competence which is borderline superhuman. The apprentice sushi chef spends 2-3 years just on perfecting the craft of preparing rice before they are trusted with preparing fish. Thousands of hours washing and soaking - learning cooking ratios and temperatures and textures and acidity and timing. But it's all to the same end, preparing a piece of nigiri that will be eaten seconds later - the absurd artistic creation forever lost after a single bite. The boulder inevitably rolls back down the hill.
The sushi master attends to his Sisyphian task with utmost seriousness and so can we. We can grab our indifferent universe by the balls, smile at it and perform our duty in full knowledge that tomorrow morning we'll find our boulder waiting for us at the bottom of our hill, taking refuge in the fact that we'll be stronger tomorrow, and it will get easier.
Perhaps we must embrace the meaninglessness. Perhaps we must embrace the struggle.
Perhaps, we must imagine Sisyphus jacked.
