Happiness

I am happy. I am living my kind of life in my kind of way, the life I envisaged and aspired to when I was 20 years old and wrote in my journal, "To live a philosophical life in a tumultuous, uncertain world is my goal." I am pulling it off, and have been for over half a century. But the task of self-individuation is not yet complete. There is work yet to be done in becoming in act and fact what I am  in potency and possibility. A human life is a project, a task, not something given but something to be accomplished.  Be who you are becoming; become who you are.

Buona fortuna has played her part, but also personal focus and determination and the willingness to renounce what is incompatible with a steady advance along a single line. "A no, a yes, a straight line, a goal." (Nietzsche) I have always had a horror of an unfocused existence, of the lives of companions afloat rudderless, at the mercy of social winds and currents, or else drifting in the horse latitudes of  Sargassian despond.

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Dmitri writes, and I respond:

I was glad for you after reading your today's entry on happiness. I needed to look up Sargassian despond and horse latitudes to understand the ending, which was, as always, stimulating and enriching for me. Even if I completely missed your intended meaning, as I suspect I did, this entry was a great find.

The horse latitudes are a region of the North Atlantic Ocean, located between 20° and 35° north latitude, where the winds are often calm and the sea is relatively still. This area is also known as the Sargasso Sea. (A.I. generated.) Further:

 

There is one such place renowned for its disquieting calms – the Sargasso Sea, a shoreless oval of water in the North Atlantic measuring some 2,000 by 700 miles. Bounded by ocean currents on all sides, the water rotates clockwise in an ocean gyre, slowly revolving like the eye of a hurricane. The area has struck terror into the minds of sailors for centuries. It was once known as the Horse Latitudes, after becalmed Spanish ships were forced to throw their horses overboard to save drinking water. Tales of ghost ships abound, their skeleton crews left to starve or go insane while their sails hung listlessly.

The Slough of Despond is a metaphorical place of spiritual despair, first introduced in John Bunyan’s allegory, The Pilgrim’s Progress. It is a deep, miry bog where Christian, the protagonist, sinks under the weight of his sins and guilt. The Slough represents the doubts, fears, and discouraging thoughts that can overcome a person, causing them to feel hopeless and trapped. (A.I. generated)

Going back to the existence thread — I decided to buy and read your book as I do want to understand the notion of existence you argue for. If not too difficult and time consuming, I'd be grateful to wire the payment directly to you for the book and the shipment. An autograph would be a deeply appreciated bonus. If you don't have the time for this stuff, I get it and will buy my copy from Amazon.