Sartre said: “Anything, anything would be better than this agony of mind, this creeping pain that gnaws and fumbles and caresses one and never hurts quite enough.”
I believe this quote encapsulates the essence of existential angst and the human experience of grappling with inner turmoil and suffering. I did not understand what he had to say until very recently, when, during my quiet hours, often spent in a park observing the flow of water, it hit me hard! Sartre was deeply influenced by the intellectual and cultural climate of his time. Yes, perhaps it has nothing to do with the conditioning I have had since my childhood or even now. For nearly the past 18 years, I was only concerned about survival, making ends meet, and helping my parents run the farm while also studying. But the question of the meaning of life always bothered me. Not whether life has some meaning, but whether there ought to be any.
I’m putting these words on paper (metaphorically) because somewhere in the dimly lit corners of our minds, where thoughts linger and doubts fester, there lives a quiet kind of agony, like a gnawing, creeping pain that never quite hurts enough to name. It surfaces only in your weakest hours and slips back into hiding the moment you find strength, passion, or desire again.
What follows are fragments from my notes, written while I tried to find my way through the labyrinth of existential thought.
Think of life as a never-ending play where you’re both the lead actor and the director. At times, it feels like a cosmic joke, and you’re never quite sure whether you’re in on it or the unwitting punchline. That’s the existential paradox, the lingering suspicion that life is one long improvisation, and you’re an actor on a stage with no script.
From the very moment we’re born, our existence is a tumultuous journey. Picture a newborn wailing and demanding attention. It’s like a raw, primal cry for validation, a symbol of our inherent desire to make our presence felt in this vast world. It perfectly fits with an analogy that I overused in many discussions. Think of a smartphone. The moment you turn it on, it asks who you are and looks for a connection to the internet. Once it’s online, it keeps sending little pings out and getting signals back, even if you’re not using it. In some ways, the phone is like a baby, which ages and develops an identity (with all the personalization you do), just in a raw sense, needing to check in and confirm it’s still here.
As we grow, in time and maybe in mind, we don’t really outgrow that sense of existential unease. It just changes shape, turning into different ways of looking for validation. We start wrestling with questions that don’t have easy answers. Why are we here? What’s the point of all this?
It’s like trying to find your way through a labyrinth without a map, where every turn only takes you deeper into the mystery of existence. And honestly, if these questions don’t bother you, you might want to skip this part of the blog. There’s no point stirring up a storm when there’s calm to be had.
On a parting note, I’ll leave you with this thought. As you contemplate your existence, what choices will you make? What meaning will you create? Will you embrace the absurdity of life with a grin, or will you seek solace in the search for purpose?
Until later…👋