Why Keep Going?
There's a homeless man who "lives" a few blocks from my apartment. I've been seeing him for months, almost every time I drive down the main road outside my complex. He's usually lying on the ground, propped up against a wall or fence, accompanied by an overflowing shopping cart full of everything he owns: clothes, blankets, and what appears to be thousands of paper and plastic bags. He alternates between either side of the street, preferring either the bus stop shelter on one side or the open spot of sidewalk between two parking lot entrances on the other side, and never strays very far. I sometimes wonder if police or mean kids ever bother him. I've seen plenty of people sidestep him and his cart, but I've never seen anyone talk to him.
His age is indecipherable, but I'd guess late forties. He's tall, with a long beard and hair. He's filthy; sometimes I drive by and he looks like he's been rolling around in mud, just covered with dirt. I've often seen him engaged in animated discussions with no one, but I've also seen him reading newspapers, so he must have some degree of sanity left.
I see this man every day, and every day I wonder, what keeps him going? What reason does he have to continue living? What is it in the human spirit that makes him choose life over death? I've pondered this for a long time, discussed it with friends, and never come to a satisfying answer.
I suppose the answer depends completely upon the assumptions underlying the question. This man has no access to the material possessions and personal relationships that most of us take for granted and help define our experience of the world: he has no books, no TV, no movies, no music, no art, no internet, no radio, no phone, no hobbies, no creative outlet, no family, no friends, no one to talk to. He does, as I mentioned above, read newspapers sometimes. But for the most part, his experience of the world consists entirely of that which he can observe with his own eyes, and extends no further. There's no reason to assume that he's completely ignorant of the wider world, but it certainly appears that he has limited possibilities for experiencing any of it.
A first attempt at imagining what would keep him going must necessarily refer to what keeps me going. It sounds goofily lofty, but I live for knowledge - for the perpetual possibility of learning something new. I am insatiably curious. I'm always baffled by people who appear to have no real interests, who can't entertain themselves when alone. How can you not have tons of books that you want to read, movies you want to see, places you want to visit, subjects to learn about, relationships you'd like to start and develop over time? I could spend years reading on the internet alone. But that can't be this guy's motivation: he has none of those things.
How about hope for the future? I look forward to new experiences, adventures, careers, vacations, prosperity, family, friends, [computer games! Bioshock on August 21 is a huge day for me]. I'm optimistic about the future; I'm confident in my ability to continue to achieve my goals and make a better life for myself and those I care about. But again, I cannot imagine that this guy has any of this. What reason could he possibly have to be hopeful for the future? Is there any chance he'll ever get off the streets?
I think of these things, tabulating my own desires, and I see that none of them apply to this man. I can't help but think that were I in his position, I would prefer to end my life rather than continue along that path.
But perhaps my measuring stick is wholly unsuited to him. Perhaps it really is as simple as stubborn human insistence on pure survival. Given that none of the concerns which motivate me even remotely apply to him, maybe that makes them irrelevant to him.
My inability to arrive at a satisfactory answer bothers me. Somehow, in this seemingly illogical situation, I sense the revelation of, or at least a hint of, a flaw in the way I think about my own existence, and about the things that motivate me to continue to get up every day.
But as of yet I'm unable to grasp it. I just continue to ponder it and wonder about it every day, every time that I see him lying on the sidewalk as I drive by.
His age is indecipherable, but I'd guess late forties. He's tall, with a long beard and hair. He's filthy; sometimes I drive by and he looks like he's been rolling around in mud, just covered with dirt. I've often seen him engaged in animated discussions with no one, but I've also seen him reading newspapers, so he must have some degree of sanity left.
I see this man every day, and every day I wonder, what keeps him going? What reason does he have to continue living? What is it in the human spirit that makes him choose life over death? I've pondered this for a long time, discussed it with friends, and never come to a satisfying answer.
I suppose the answer depends completely upon the assumptions underlying the question. This man has no access to the material possessions and personal relationships that most of us take for granted and help define our experience of the world: he has no books, no TV, no movies, no music, no art, no internet, no radio, no phone, no hobbies, no creative outlet, no family, no friends, no one to talk to. He does, as I mentioned above, read newspapers sometimes. But for the most part, his experience of the world consists entirely of that which he can observe with his own eyes, and extends no further. There's no reason to assume that he's completely ignorant of the wider world, but it certainly appears that he has limited possibilities for experiencing any of it.
A first attempt at imagining what would keep him going must necessarily refer to what keeps me going. It sounds goofily lofty, but I live for knowledge - for the perpetual possibility of learning something new. I am insatiably curious. I'm always baffled by people who appear to have no real interests, who can't entertain themselves when alone. How can you not have tons of books that you want to read, movies you want to see, places you want to visit, subjects to learn about, relationships you'd like to start and develop over time? I could spend years reading on the internet alone. But that can't be this guy's motivation: he has none of those things.
How about hope for the future? I look forward to new experiences, adventures, careers, vacations, prosperity, family, friends, [computer games! Bioshock on August 21 is a huge day for me]. I'm optimistic about the future; I'm confident in my ability to continue to achieve my goals and make a better life for myself and those I care about. But again, I cannot imagine that this guy has any of this. What reason could he possibly have to be hopeful for the future? Is there any chance he'll ever get off the streets?
I think of these things, tabulating my own desires, and I see that none of them apply to this man. I can't help but think that were I in his position, I would prefer to end my life rather than continue along that path.
But perhaps my measuring stick is wholly unsuited to him. Perhaps it really is as simple as stubborn human insistence on pure survival. Given that none of the concerns which motivate me even remotely apply to him, maybe that makes them irrelevant to him.
My inability to arrive at a satisfactory answer bothers me. Somehow, in this seemingly illogical situation, I sense the revelation of, or at least a hint of, a flaw in the way I think about my own existence, and about the things that motivate me to continue to get up every day.
But as of yet I'm unable to grasp it. I just continue to ponder it and wonder about it every day, every time that I see him lying on the sidewalk as I drive by.
posted by GregP at 8:49 PM
3 Comments:
Not only is it illogical for him to have the drive to go on, it's also more than a little illogical to me that he's in that situation in the first place given that he's "living" in the wealthiest society in the history of the world.
Well that of course is an entirely separate, and worthy, discussion. An epiphany I recently had, after comparing the US to other wealthy, industrialized countries like South Korea and Japan, and seeing how few homeless there are there, is how important a role family and community play in this. Even if the government is making no effort to help a person, a strong family and/or community could pick up the slack and take the person in. Clearly, none of these people had family that they felt they could count on, which is pretty sad in itself.
You may be overcomplicating things. Life exists to perpetuate itself, and the man's survival instict will usually win out. He has no choice but to keep on keeping on. Through his insanity, he has devolved into something less than human. Would you ask why a gorilla sits around all day?
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