What Is vs. What Could Be

Man's Search for Meaning - The Narrow Road to the Deep North - The Mayor of Casterbridge

Author

Clara Lim
January 12, 2025 • Reading Time: 6 minutes

In Man's Search for Meaning, Viktor Frankl wrote that a meaningful life is NOT one where all your needs and wants are met (which he calls "homeostasis"). Instead it is characterised by tension between what is, and what could be. His ideas about meaning were derived from his experiences in Nazi concentration camps, where, in the midst of so much brutality and suffering, human life somehow still continued and could even be conceived of as meaningful.

My mind keeps going back to Frankl's idea that one's life should be in a state of tension - something quite absent from the internet's preponderance of canned mental health content. This tension is uncannily reflected in another book I read this week, Basho's The Narrow Road to the Deep North. The Japanese poet travelled on foot and horse to the north of Japan, in a time when travel was extraordinarily uncomfortable and dangerous. Why was he seeking hardship and risk? Basho seemed driven by an almost primal need to move, one that made him sell his home before going on this journey. His apologia is, I think, one of the most beautiful passages I have ever read:

"In this mortal frame of mine which is made of a hundred bones and nine orifices there is something, and this something is called a wind-swept spirit for lack of a better name, for it is much like a thin drapery that is torn and swept away at the slightest stir of the wind. This something in me took to writing poetry years ago, merely to amuse itself at first, but finally making it its lifelong business. It must be admitted, however, that there were times when it sank into such dejection that it was almost ready to drop its pursuit, or again times when it was so puffed up with pride that it exulted in vain victories over the others. Indeed, ever since it began to write poetry, it has never found peace with itself, always wavering between doubts of one kind and another. At one time it wanted to gain security by entering the service of a court, and at another it wished to measure the depth of its ignorance by trying to be a scholar, but it was prevented from either because of its unquenchable love of poetry. The fact is, it knows no other art than the art of writing poetry, and therefore, it hangs on to it more or less blindly.”

It wasn't even to see the world, particularly, because what did he see in the Deep North that he could not find back home? On his journey, he looked at and composed haiku about frogs, ponds, horses, rain, sleeping on grass pillows. But these were simply the things that made him feel closer to God. Maybe he was making meaning through experience, or even choosing a form of noble suffering, a la Frankl.

The third book I read this week was Thomas Hardy's The Mayor of Casterbridge. Right in the first pages we meet Henchard at age 21, getting wasted and selling his ol' ball and chain (wife and child) in a drunken rage:

“I don’t see why men who have got wives, and don’t want ‘em, shouldn’t get rid of ‘em as these gipsy fellows do their old horses…why shouldn’t they put them up and sell ‘em by auction to men who are in want of such articles? Hey? Why, begad, I’d sell mine this minute, if anybody would buy her!”

Brutal. He regrets this decision and reforms himself into a pillar of society, turning into the titular Mayor. But, we're reading Hardy here, so this isn't a story about redemption. His wife and child reappear, and Henchard's past catches up with him, showing us that we can never outrun our character defects nor undo our hurtful decisions, no matter how penitent we are. There is a flavour of self-delusion and hypocrisy in the reformed Mayor Henchard, but it's not as blatant as Alec d'Urberville (Tess's rapist, who briefly becomes a born-again Christian). As usual, Hardy holds up a mirror to the human race to reveal us as the violent, savage animals we really are. 

Well, this week I've really been feeling stagnant. Perhaps not looking upon my settled life with Basho-like despair, but certainly feeling the need for healthy tension. I looked at a bunch of courses, thinking I should do something "useful" like Tiktok marketing, or whatever, but ended up bookmarking a lot of dance, acting, and drawing ones. Hmm. Some distant relation of that "wind-swept spirit" exists in me, I suppose.

As luck would have it, just as I was looking for courses to fill up my unemployed hours, I got notified of two final-round job interviews. Hopefully I can start a new job before starting on any creative exploration. I've also been busy hanging out with Meetup friends, planning our Nakasendo Way trip, and getting brainwashed with Lactobacillus Shirota propaganda at the Yakult factory.