HUNTER S. THOMPSON ON FINDING YOUR PURPOSE

In April of 1958, a 22 year-old Hunter S. Thompson wrote a letter on the meaning of life when asked by a friend for advice. What makes his response all the more profound is the fact that at the time, the world had no idea that he would become one of the most important writers of the 20th century. Therefore his beliefs about purpose were hypothetical—they were statements of faith.

But if it’s true that our beliefs really do become our reality, then there’s no better example of a life fully realised than the one of Hunter S. Thompson. Let his perspective inspire you:

…

April 22, 1958

57 Perry Street

New York City

Dear Hume,

You ask advice: ah, what a very human and very dangerous thing to do! For to give advice to a man who asks what to do with his life implies something very close to egomania. To presume to point a man to the right and ultimate goal — to point with a trembling finger in the RIGHT direction is something only a fool would take upon himself.

I am not a fool, but I respect your sincerity in asking my advice. I ask you though, in listening to what I say, to remember that all advice can only be a product of the man who gives it. What is truth to one may be disaster to another. I do not see life through your eyes, nor you through mine. If I were to attempt to give you specific advice, it would be too much like the blind leading the blind.

“To be, or not to be: that is the question: Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles … ” (Shakespeare)

And indeed, that IS the question: whether to float with the tide, or to swim for a goal. It is a choice we must all make consciously or unconsciously at one time in our lives. So few people understand this! Think of any decision you’ve ever made which had a bearing on your future: I may be wrong, but I don’t see how it could have been anything but a choice however indirect — between the two things I’ve mentioned: the floating or the swimming.

But why not float if you have no goal? That is another question. It is unquestionably better to enjoy the floating than to swim in uncertainty. So how does a man find a goal? Not a castle in the stars, but a real and tangible thing. How can a man be sure he’s not after the “big rock candy mountain,” the enticing sugar-candy goal that has little taste and no substance?

The answer — and, in a sense, the tragedy of life — is that we seek to understand the goal and not the man. We set up a goal which demands of us certain things: and we do these things. We adjust to the demands of a concept which CANNOT be valid. When you were young, let us say that you wanted to be a fireman. I feel reasonably safe in saying that you no longer want to be a fireman. Why? Because your perspective has changed. It’s not the fireman who has changed, but you. Every man is the sum total of his reactions to experience. As your experiences differ and multiply, you become a different man, and hence your perspective changes. This goes on and on. Every reaction is a learning process; every significant experience alters your perspective.

So it would seem foolish, would it not, to adjust our lives to the demands of a goal we see from a different angle every day? How could we ever hope to accomplish anything other than galloping neurosis?

The answer, then, must not deal with goals at all, or not with tangible goals, anyway. It would take reams of paper to develop this subject to fulfillment. God only knows how many books have been written on “the meaning of man” and that sort of thing, and god only knows how many people have pondered the subject. (I use the term “god only knows” purely as an expression.) There’s very little sense in my trying to give it up to you in the proverbial nutshell, because I’m the first to admit my absolute lack of qualifications for reducing the meaning of life to one or two paragraphs.

I’m going to steer clear of the word “existentialism,” but you might keep it in mind as a key of sorts. You might also try something called “Being and Nothingness” by Jean-Paul Sartre, and another little thing called “Existentialism: From Dostoyevsky to Sartre.” These are merely suggestions. If you’re genuinely satisfied with what you are and what you’re doing, then give those books a wide berth. (Let sleeping dogs lie.) But back to the answer. As I said, to put our faith in tangible goals would seem to be, at best, unwise. So we do not strive to be firemen, we do not strive to be bankers, nor policemen, nor doctors. WE STRIVE TO BE OURSELVES.

But don’t misunderstand me. I don’t mean that we can’t BE firemen, bankers, or doctors — but that we must make the goal conform to the individual, rather than make the individual conform to the goal. In every man, heredity and environment have combined to produce a creature of certain abilities and desires — including a deeply ingrained need to function in such a way that his life will be MEANINGFUL. A man has to BE something; he has to matter.

As I see it then, the formula runs something like this: a man must choose a path which will let his ABILITIES function at maximum efficiency toward the gratification of his DESIRES. In doing this, he is fulfilling a need (giving himself identity by functioning in a set pattern toward a set goal), he avoids frustrating his potential (choosing a path which puts no limit on his self-development), and he avoids the terror of seeing his goal wilt or lose its charm as he draws closer to it (rather than bending himself to meet the demands of that which he seeks, he has bent his goal to conform to his own abilities and desires).

In short, he has not dedicated his life to reaching a pre-defined goal, but he has rather chosen a way of life he KNOWS he will enjoy. The goal is absolutely secondary: it is the functioning toward the goal which is important. And it seems almost ridiculous to say that a man MUST function in a pattern of his own choosing; for to let another man define your own goals is to give up one of the most meaningful aspects of life — the definitive act of will which makes a man an individual.

Let’s assume that you think you have a choice of eight paths to follow (all pre-defined paths, of course). And let’s assume that you can’t see any real purpose in any of the eight. THEN — and here is the essence of all I’ve said — you MUST FIND A NINTH PATH.

Naturally, it isn’t as easy as it sounds. You’ve lived a relatively narrow life, a vertical rather than a horizontal existence. So it isn’t any too difficult to understand why you seem to feel the way you do. But a man who procrastinates in his CHOOSING will inevitably have his choice made for him by circumstance.

So if you now number yourself among the disenchanted, then you have no choice but to accept things as they are, or to seriously seek something else. But beware of looking for goals: look for a way of life. Decide how you want to live and then see what you can do to make a living WITHIN that way of life. But you say, “I don’t know where to look; I don’t know what to look for.”

And there’s the crux. Is it worth giving up what I have to look for something better? I don’t know — is it? Who can make that decision but you? But even by DECIDING TO LOOK, you go a long way toward making the choice.

If I don’t call this to a halt, I’m going to find myself writing a book. I hope it’s not as confusing as it looks at first glance. Keep in mind, of course, that this is MY WAY of looking at things. I happen to think that it’s pretty generally applicable, but you may not. Each of us has to create our own credo — this merely happens to be mine.

If any part of it doesn’t seem to make sense, by all means call it to my attention. I’m not trying to send you out “on the road” in search of Valhalla, but merely pointing out that it is not necessary to accept the choices handed down to you by life as you know it. There is more to it than that — no one HAS to do something he doesn’t want to do for the rest of his life. But then again, if that’s what you wind up doing, by all means convince yourself that you HAD to do it. You’ll have lots of company.

And that’s it for now. Until I hear from you again, I remain,

your friend,

Hunter

http://yourfriendshouse.com/uncategorised/hunter-s-thompson-on-finding-your-purpose/

The road not taken…again!

I am 35 and I think I am having a mid-life crisis. I am not sad in any degree, just perplexed. The “crisis” is related to my career as well as my personal life, both of which are going well, so I ask myself why I call it a “crisis”. Maybe it is not a crisis, it is a definitely a dilemma! I have been here before, not this exact choice, but at such cross-roads. It is one of those times when life presents you with a fork in the road, and where choosing something, invariably also means giving up something…probably something you love.

First off, I just finished my PhD from a prestigious institution. The plan, as I told everyone, was to get an academic job. Though, in my mind, it was to have some stay-at-home work time to be with my kid as he was really young. Now, I have a 9 month contract academic job filling in for a sabbatical that ends in September and I have realised, I don’t like teaching. I give out so much free advice to everyone who asks, I had thought it would be my dream job. It isn't. Turns out, I don’t really like giving advises, I have opinions and because I am outspoken, when asked I give my opinions. It does not bother me in the slightest whether people think my opinions are right or wrong. If some other evidence comes up, I readily change my opinions. I am rarely ever in “I don’t know what to do” situations. This is one such time.

Teaching is about encouraging others to have opinions, which I am game for, but the trouble is that most people are not comfortable with having opinions, or brave enough to voice them. My weakness is that I do not know how to engage with people who have no opinions and won’t work hard enough to develop some. The result is that I am a good teacher for a few bright kids, and not so much for the one who misses deadlines for essay submissions, or doesn't give a damn. I am told I shouldn't care about them because the students are in charge of their own learning.  But I know better, because I have seen good teachers. I have seen teachers who are passionate about every last kid in the classroom, about involving everyone, about especially encouraging and creating interest in those who do not have any. If I want to be a teacher, I want to be Blu Rain in the 2009 film Precious.  If not, I need to do something that I am really good at.

This brings me to the second part, I know what I am really good at, and I don’t yet know if I can become Blu Rain.  Part of me wants to be keep going and try and become that teacher who can even inspire the last benchers, part of me thinks/knows I am not that person and wants to pursue what I know I am good at. I am good at Research and Policy Analysis jobs. The action filled, fast paced, happening workplace. I am fairly certain of being able to secure such jobs. That is the kind of work my career was made of, till I became a mum. Then, my priorities changed. I took on a full time PhD which I thoroughly enjoyed. Cambridge has been good for us in more ways than one, but largely it slowed down our life. For the first time in our married lives, my husband and I have the leisure that we didn’t even know we craved for. We've always had a busy professional and social life, but now we are not constantly exhausted. We enjoy the university town lifestyle of riding bikes and living a simple, frugal life. It gave me a chance to develop new hobbies like photography and gardening, and let us have a pet – all of which changed our lives for the better. A couple of days a week, when my husband and I work from home, we have a relaxed lunch and go out for a walk with our dog. This was unimaginable in the fast paced job I love! So, yes, teaching also enables us to have a laidback lifestyle. I can do the school run, be there for my son’s school activities, walk the dog, do some gardening, and have friends over without being exhausted by the commute. Because, most Research and Policy Analysis jobs are in London and even if we were to move to London, any place that we can possibly afford will have some commute.

Now, let’s add to the mix some personal “crisis”. I have a loving family with one kid. We want him to have a sibling; he wishes for a sibling. My husband and I always wanted to adopt a child, and when I started having multiple miscarriages and a difficult pregnancy with my son, it seemed like the perfect solution for us. Adoption, however, has not been easy in our case. We hold Indian passports but have lived aboard for the last 12 years without having taking on a permanent residency anywhere. This seems to complicate matters. We have been trying to adopt since 2011, and we are still no close to even the first step yet.

This makes me think whether it would be a good idea to try for another child of our own, and whenever the adoption is to happen will happen. The idea of having three kids excites us. But again, a part of me that dreads the pregnancy wants to wait, while the other part fears that it would be too late for Kunal and that he would miss out on having a sibling for a considerable part of his childhood.

Also, I need to publish 3 papers from my PhD. My supervisor, who is an Emeritus Professor, has kindly agreed to co-author the papers with me. In fact he is the one who sent me an email asking me when we would start working on it. This is huge! Most PhD students I know of do not have such an involved and encouraging guide. If I don’t publish soon-ish, my data will probably be outdated, or so I feel. If I want to publish, I need to stay home this year. Because, given our family situation, I do not think I can manage a full time job, and write/publish 3 papers in top journals. If I do publish, it will enhance my chances of getting a permanent teaching position, and will generally be beneficial for any career options I may have. I feel if I am going to be home, then this is the year I need to have a second child.

This is the long and short of my situation. It is a good life, which I would hate to give up. I am certain that it is not worth the job I love, if I have to give up so much. But (…oh but!) when I see and read all about such job profiles, I feel I am missing out on something I could have had.

Choices…why do they have to be so hard?! Do I say – “I have been there, done that” to the job I love, and try and embrace the opportunity to become a new person - the teacher I have in mind, or do I go back to the familiar and exciting, and bid adieu to the calm life? When I pose the question like this, I know that the job is not worth letting go of this lifestyle. But, the decision regarding is child is not that easy.

Robert Frost has penned what I facing much more eloquently - 

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

~ Robert Frost (1874–1963).

I keep reading and re-reading the poem, seeking solace in the knowledge that such choices are a privilege; they help define who we become.