Having studied a bit of philosophy in college, I was
familiar with the Greeks -- Socrates, Plato, Aristotle and Epicurus -- and
the Romans, such as Seneca and Virgil, but considered myself something of a
novice when it came to English and French philosophers, and particularly the Germans, such
as Kant and Nietzsche.
My familiarity with
Nietzsche had less to do with his books on philosophy and more to do with his
pithy quotes: “Without music, life would be a mistake.” “The doer
alone learneth.” “There are not facts, only interpretations.” And finally: "We love life, not because we are used to living but because we are used to loving."
But last summer, as I was bemoaning the trials and travails
of travel, I discovered new insight into the mind of Friedrich Nietzsche. I had no idea how much I had in common with this German illuminato until reading The Consolations of Philosophy by Alain Botton. One chapter focuses on
“The Consolations For Difficulties.”
Friedrich Nietzsche was
among the first to suggest that difficulties of all varieties should be
welcomed by those seeking fulfillment: kind of a you-gotta-get-through-hell-before-you-get-to-heaven outlook on life, a seemingly illogical yet enlightening
concept that provided perspective as I negotiated the labryrinth of
overseas travel.
Nietzsche didn’t always believe the theory of “no pain,
no gain.” Initially, he concurred with philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer: “The prudent man strives for freedom from pain, not pleasure. The key for
those seeking contentment was to recognize the impossibility of fulfillment and
avoid troubles and anxieties at all costs."
"(We should) direct our aim
not to what is pleasant and agreeable in life, but to the avoidance -- as far as
possible -- to its numberless evils,” wrote Nietzsche in a letter to his mother and sister.
“The happiest lot is that of the man who has got through life without very
great pain, bodily or mental.”
Later, Nietzsche changed his mind. Avoiding
pain rather than seeking pleasure now struck Nietzsche as both timid and
untrue, a perverse attempt to remain “hidden in forests like shy deer.” Fulfillment
would not be reached by avoiding pain, but by recognizing its role as a natural,
inevitable step on the way to reach anything good.
An enlightening
epiphany when I needed consolation in the Torino airport en route to
Eugene with no money nor identification after my wallet had been stolen.
Nietzsche contended it was impossible to attain a fulfilled life without
feeling miserable some of the time. Very true, it turned out; I had
experienced a great trip otherwise.
What if pleasure and displeasure were so connected that
whoever wanted as much as possible of one must also have as much as
possible of the other? he asked. You have a choice: either as little
displeasure as possible (painlessness, in brief), or as much displeasure as
possible as the price for the experience of joys rarely relished.
“Examining the lives of
those who have achieved great success in life, you must ask if a tree that is
supposed to grow to a proud height can dispense with adverse weather? Whether
through misfortune, external forces or other unfavorable conditions, personal
growth (even virtue) is scarcely possible.” Realizing this truism, I felt
better.
The other connection I have with the German sophist is that
he was, in both a practical and spiritual sense, "of the mountains." Escaping
Germany, Nietzsche lived in the small mountain community of Sils-Maria near
St. Moritz in Switzerland. He had fallen in love with
the climate and topography of The Alps.
Renting a room in a chalet
with views of the mountains, he would rise at 5 a.m. and
work until midday, then take walks up the huge peaks encircling the village.
Nietzsche believed an affinity existed between his philosophy and the
mountains, and claimed that “only thoughts which come from walking have any
value.”
But to understand his “mountain philosophy” and its
correlation with overcoming difficulties, you must grasp the nature of mountain
climbing. As you might expect, it’s not easy trekking uphill for hours along
steep paths, maneuvering around boulders and growing breathless in the thin air
while crunching through perpetual snows.
The summit, by contrast, is
sublime. But overcoming difficulties are, of course, sadly not enough. All
lives are difficult. What makes some fulfilled as well is how the difficulties have been addressed. Anxiety may precipitate panic, or
an accurate analysis of what is amiss. Fortunately, in my time of need, I chose the latter.
