
[Kirism is a contemporary philosophy of life that I’ve developed over the last several decades. It is psychological, philosophical, and existential and takes into account human nature, the human predicament, our contemporary understanding of the world, and our pressing individual and species-wide challenges. I hope that you’ll enjoy learning more about it. In the first four posts of the series, we’ll look at the idea of absurd rebellion: what that is and why a Kirist adopts that attitude. This is the fourth of those four posts. To learn more about Kirism, please take a look at Lighting the Way, in which Kirism is introduced. To be in touch with me about Kirism, please drop me an email to [email protected].]
Is it absurd to lead when following is so much safer and more convenient? Absurd to discard a beloved vice when it’s doing no particular harm? Absurd to do good when the universe is completely indifferent? No; these rebellions are the best of us.
These absurd rebellions are available to everyone. They are not available only to the privileged, the healthy, the educated, or the nicely positioned. Each human being can live an engaged life, even in the direst of circumstances, if he or she is willing.
Well, but what can absurd rebellion look like to an old woman in a wheelchair parked in a nursing home corridor? Or to a refugee carrying his belongings on his back? Or to a gay teenager trapped in a claustrophobic town? What then?
What does absurd rebellion look like to each of them? For the old woman, it might mean taking three painful steps with a walker. The refugee might become a camp leader. The gay youth might plot his escape. These are things they might try.
Each can do something and each must do something. There is no formulaic response to suggest and no principle to offer, except the principle of radical self-authorship: a human being can stand up, even if he or she can’t literally stand up.
No one is in a perfect position to rebel. It would be absurd to imagine that there could be some perfect position. We are all too burdened, too constrained, too conflicted, too human. We awkwardly stand on one foot and rebel while tilting.
And, of course, there will be consequences. You tell the truth at work—job gone. You back an unpopular cause—serious pushback. Are you ready for such consequences? Of course not. How absurd to imagine that you could be ready for harsh reality!
You see those consequences looming and you hear yourself say, “No, thank you. No absurd rebellion for me. The price is just too high.” Then you are obliged to shake your head and reply, “But isn’t the price of not rebelling even higher?”
The price of not rebelling when rebellion is called for is despair. That despair is crippling millions. They may have no idea how to name their malaise and they may have no idea that absurd rebellion is called for, consequences be damned. But it is.
Are you ready? No. No creature of our sort can ever really be ready. So, unsure, weak in the knees, you nod and say, “I am not ready. But that’s just another bit of absurdity, to suppose that a creature like me could ever be ready for such heroism!”
Absurd rebellion is you taking your stand even though you feel alone. You don your winter coat to help with the coldness and you warm your hands by the fire, where other hands are also warming. You stay as warm as you can in the face of cosmic coldness.
Why engage in absurd rebellion when others aren’t? Because you must. Let others fall short, even pathetically short, of self-authorship and self-obligation. Your path is the harder one but the righteous one. Don’t you feel that?
Others may resent you for living more heroically than they are. That is absurd, too, that your neighbors might resent you for standing up. And maybe we should even envy them, as they look to be absurdity-proof! But, no, nothing to envy there.
Still, we must remain watchful. The Kirist way is courageous and dangerous. We may nod compassionately at this odd creature that nature has made and then dropped into a hornet’s nest. But as much compassion as we may feel, we must be careful.
It is absurd that we must be reckless in our rebellions and also careful in our rebellions! It is reckless of us to rebel, as there will be consequences, and so we take as much care as we can. But in the end, we do what we must, as that is our obligation.
You see a child smile. That smile changes nothing and that smile changes everything. You are built to be moved by that smile and it reminds you of your obligations. Maybe you smile, too; but whether you smile or not, you have your work to do.
What if everyone in one tumultuous gasp exclaimed, “How absurd! Now let me get on with it!” That would amount to a leap forward for our species. We would all of a sudden grow up. That leap is not coming—except person by person.
What a triumphant sound such a mass exhalation would make! It would help every person in every situation. It would help our species and our world. But there will never be a mass exhalation. It will always be just a single person sighing.
Denying the absurd is a powerful obstacle to living your life purposes, manifesting your potential, and coaxing meaning into existence. Instead of denying it, you acknowledge absurdity and calculate your rebellions.
Our tasks are absurd, our efforts are absurd, and our situation is absurd. Yes, there will be infant deaths, cancers, fascists, meaningless work, hurricanes, split second mistakes that result in catastrophes. We can’t bear this … but we can respond to this.
We marshal our freedom, shake our head, and say, “This is absurd and maybe even intolerable. But here I go anyway.” Then we find a hand to hold, a mouth to kiss, or a battle to wage. That is what wellness looks like.
We possess a bit of freedom and the absurd obligation, arising from nowhere but our own understanding of our situation, to use it. We are obliged because we understand that we are obliged. Hello, absurd rebel. Nice to see you again.
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To learn more about Kirism, please take a look at Lighting the Way, in which Kirism is introduced.

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This Post is republished on Medium.
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Photo credit: iStock
