How the anxiety of creativity gives purpose to the absurdity of existence
How are artists, intellects, and the great thinkers of today able to cope with the nihilistic emptiness of mortality through their creative work?
Life is absurd and essentially meaningless. Although we can deflect and repress the terrible truth of being, which states that the control we believe we possess over our personal cognition, conscious desires, and moral conscientiousness, is ultimately obsoleted by the fact that free will does not exist. We may believe our minds are the agents of causality, that our individual choices are unique to us. Yet truth lies in the contravention of individualism — we universally suffer from the terrible lightness of being. Knowing the indisputable nature of our insignificance in the grand scheme of time and space, it turns out that none of the fickle decisions and actions we make hold any real weight or value.
But it is at this point that German philosopher Nietzsche finds evidence of the affirmation of life. There is a way to mitigate the absurdity of existence, and Nietzsche traces this back to the doctrine of the ancient Greeks. Nietzsche articulates that we are not purely rational creatures, that indeed we undoubtedly share primordial instincts inherent to wild animals. We are animals capable of reason. Nietzsche often articulated this tenet via two Greek gods: Dionysus and Apollo, symbolic representations of the ageless balance between our animalistic desires and our repressive, logical disciplines, respectively. This balance results in taking our Dionysiac subjective emotions and turning it into intellectual mediums of creativity.
In order for humanity to truly cope with the nihilism of its wasted existence, employing what is in our expenditures — what is available to us — and directing those things toward creative enterprise is the greatest thing we can do. A creative culture has certain preconditions, however, and Nietzsche purports that the unrelenting balance between hyper-rationalism (as embodied by Apollo) and natural instinct (defined by Dionysus) paves the way for artistic insight. If one abstained entirely from their neurobiological urges, humanity’s mortality is covered up — we fallaciously aggrandize our capabilities as a consequence. But a complete loss of self to one’s untamable desires would also make life unbearable. In the act of creation, humanity must attend to this careful balancing act so that expressive freedom can truly be opened up to cogitation.
We can combat nihilism by learning from great works of art (visual, literary, performance, musical) and intellect to see the beauty in life. The act of creation is a mechanism we use to develop the courage to face the grim circumstances of mortal living — “we are forced to look into the terrors of the individual existence, yet we are not to become rigid with fear,” says Nietzsche, and the funneling of our intellectual energies becomes a form of catharsis with which we intertwine with our awareness of the curse of existence.
Artificial intelligence, the top-selling fantasy roleplay game, and a master thesis on quantum mechanics all share one thing in common — they are products of the potential of the human mind for creation. Our endeavors for imagination and our explorations of possibility have demonstrated themselves all throughout history, painting humanity with a great richness. In the context of globalization, where reality and habitual life forms are perpetually changing, creativity plays an important role in conjunction with the human individual. 20th-century existentialist philosopher Heidegger writes, “Man is a thinking being. This is proved by the reality of those rare breakthroughs, thought feats that we have in the face of great thinkers.”
What makes humanity unique also places them in one of the most unique predicaments, guarded by both epistemological and psychological arguments. Unlike other creatures who are governed by biological instinct and necessities, we must contend with our perceived feeling of freedom. Regardless of the untenability of the existence of free-will, we nonetheless hold a degree of control that allows us to create new possibilities, resulting in a feeling of free-will and agency over our choices and the futures to which they lead to. The process of being given options, deliberatively choosing our decisions, and actualizing the outcomes is what leads to self-creation — and that is the quintessential definition of human capability. In the pursuit of self-becoming, this transactional exchange of taking cognitive resources to produce newfound ideas is unavoidable.
But not everyone has employed this capacity for creativity. Is our potentiality for genius, for playing “God” within the perimeters of our mortal plane, something we treat as a burden — a curse — rather than a gift? Or perhaps, do we fail to grasp this potentiality altogether?
One will notice that the potential for self-creation appears evident in what seems to be only a selected minority. Not everyone believes that “all men are created equal” and Nietzsche certainly doesn’t, arguing that although everyone possesses the inborn talent, few are able to seize the mandated endurance and energy to become a talent, or a genius, or to truly become what their potential forebears. But how do you know if you have these capacities? Unfortunately, you can’t know for certain — one has to have faith that they are “chosen,” and showing this faith is reduced to a simple decision: whether, in response to this fact, you say “yes” and set out to manifest qualities conducive to self-realization or instead you say “no” and dodge the obligations of self-becoming.
So those who use the excuse that men are born with talent rather than working toward that talent have unhesitatingly fallen victim to the religion of the beta-minded, the drawn-back animal, the mediocre.
Contemporary society is no longer familiar with the anxieties of poverty, untreatable disease, or social immobility — rather, a new form of anxiety — one inadvertently engendered by our own hands — occupies our minds and moods. This is the anxiety of existential freedom. Many of us, either consciously or unconsciously, shut off our imaginative facets, and as the “safe” alternative stick with what is within our comfort zones and follow the over-worn asphalt trail rather than venturing into the untrodden fields. As psychologist Rollo May reflects, “Because it is possible to create — creating one’s self, willing to be one’s self, as well as creating in all the innumerable daily activities… one has anxiety.”
Existential anxiety is thus not only restricted to the nihilism of our existence being holistically meaningless, but also includes seeing the vast freedom of possible choices that we have accessorized over time. Because our decisions are largely insignificant in the grand scheme of the universe, the little causative power we have as conscious agents actually has no exact direction. We will never know if the choices we make are the right ones for our personal lives. As you can probably imagine, our heads get filled with all sorts of dizzying questions — we begin to catastrophize the essence of our decisions, especially choices that involve breaking our personal status quo, rupturing what is faulty (which jointly entails fragmenting away from our comfort zones) in order to make way for the new.
When we find ourselves having to balance between both the finite and the infinite, we experience a state of restless dizziness caused by looking at the sheer magnitude of possibilities we have to choose from, coupled with the fact that eventually, we must make a decision — one that we are not entirely sure of its consequences because of our general lack of free will. Although we can deliberately evaluate each option and predict its possible outcome; although we can make that final verdict — even with alternate courses of action available leading up to the actual decision — the course of events that ensues is the only possible result following that choice. But if we allow ourselves to accept, and eventually embrace, a world of contingencies (those of which accompany self-creation) then we open ourselves up to not only self-betterment but also self-becoming. In a sense, rather than being captains of a nuclear-powered ship that can travel at full speed in any direction we like (which is what the illusory idea of free-will asserts), realistically we are captains of a sailboat that cannot sail against the winds of fate but still have the responsibility of studying the winds and stars to navigate through life’s unpredictability.
Just as how Nietzsche held several compatibilist attitudes towards the dualistic nature of existence and being, in their many aspects, Danish philosopher Kierkegaard held his own notions of life’s dichotomous quality. For Kierkegaard, the self is a parallel combination of two sets of confluent forces: a synthesis of the finite and the infinite, and synthesis of necessity and possibility. At any particular moment, there are aspects of the self that are given and non-negotiable — determined, if you will, and the individual must come to terms with them if they are to move forward. Simultaneously, there are still aspects of the self that are susceptible to change by one’s own willpower, as well as those that have yet to be realized through the power of choice. In this sense, the possibility for a person to act as an agent of intent and transform themselves into a particular sort of self, plays an invariable role in the drama of creation.
In essence, man wills himself into life through fashioning their sensibilities. This principle, Nietzsche found, is compatible with the alternative idea that there exists a “true” self, a core being that cannot be adjusted but only needs to be uncovered. At the same time, Nietzsche believed to a certain extent in the inherent malleability of the self, and through this framework he metaphorically assigns us as both creators and created works of art.
This dualistic nature of self can be compared to sculpting a statue. The idea of a core “self” would be as if the sculptor began with a single block of clay and was constantly refining it, sculpting and cutting away at the core into an identifiable human statue. The concept of a moldable, self-created being would be the sculptor starting from ground level and adding each precise, polished part onto each other, constructing by affixing components where they seem due fit.
How each person envisions self-realization will differ in its particulars, but each step is patterned the same — grasping a possibility that could further our self-creation and moving forward into an unpredictable and open-ended future. But the prospect of venturing into unknown territory, into indeterminable space, produces great anxiety for all of us. Rather than fleeing from this anxiety of failure and uncertainty, we can harness it constructively. For if we avoid the challenge altogether, when we sacrifice our right to self-expression and self-becoming, we will forever be bound by guilt.
How can we create ourselves? First we must analyze the material we have available to work with. Forthright, we must analyze what exists on an introspective level; this means analyzing ourselves with an intellectual conscience to discover our unique values, drives, and virtues. After this follows imagination — syncing oneself with novel strengths and qualities. This will mean changing what had previously controlled our lifestyles, and if necessary, getting rid of the tablets that impaired our self-creation.
Appropriately, self-creation ensues only when the self is willing to accept the volatility of new contingencies and then reduce the influence of previous acclamations and attitudes. The process of self-overcoming — overcoming our “non-brave” self through the persistent application of our creative energies, sometimes requires abandoning certain habits and ideals completely. As echoed by Rollo May, creating always involves destroying the status quo and “old patterns within oneself, progressively destroying what one has clung to from childhood on, and creating new and original forms and ways of living.” Thus, each creative mission one embarks on may require one to deny, and if the situation calls for it, disentangle themselves from both people and patterns within one’s established environment. Not only is the creation of new values necessary for existence, but it is through fracturing normative beliefs of the “masses” the individual can create their own values, and in turn, their own existential being. Simplified, the precursor to artistic form is a cycle of reworking and renewal, fragmentation and rearrangement.
Indeed, the imagination of new values is key, but if one becomes absorbed within one frame of mind, that of the infinitude of freely creating projections for the future, they may become mentally lost in a world that does not yet exist and has no chance of existing unless such new ideas begin to manifest themselves in earthly action. In order to prevent succumbing to a self-destructive shell of procrastination, one must recognize that it is their responsibility alone in actualizing their potential. Thought must translate into willful action. The agent must maintain a certain tension between the finitude of definite doing and the infinitude of inventive thought.
Additionally, during moments when our life hangs in the balance and we have the choice to either avoid yet again or move forward, sometimes it is not the rational wisdom that impels us to seize the challenge but a hidden dynamism lurking within. The shadow side, that unconsciously evil part of us that we try and suppress, is in power when our instincts are at times wiser than our conscious cognitions. For life needs disorder in order to make way for greater forms of self-organization — the conflagration of old beliefs and the discord that ensues is an integral component of self-overcoming. Letting the bold instinct and intuition of our shadow side briefly take control may be needed for those who have lived far too long fixated on ideals of safety and comfort.
Why does the idea of self-overcoming sound so scary at first? It is this breakthrough process, of assessing the turbulent winds of possibility, of skepticism and the reformulation of traditional values that one has clung onto that instills fear. Consequently, the highest form of courage is maintaining a balance between conviction and doubt. Those who dwell in conviction are rigid and averse to novelty, whilst those who are perfectly skeptical of everything are prone to becoming paralyzed by doubt. Amidst the chaos that constitutes a life devoid of meaning or direction, we must retain fortitude in the face of our insignificance, retain moral responsibility in the face of determinism, retain the habit of self-creation in the face of an overwhelmingly vast universe.
