Who Would You Like to Be Ideally?

[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 looked at the idea of absurd rebellion. In these four posts, we look at the issue of individuality, an idea that matters to Kirists. This is the third 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].]

This mandate to individuality is a lifelong albatross. Nature fitted you with this albatross and now you ratify its presence on your shoulder. You say, “I didn’t ask for this pressure but I accept it, since I refuse to live small or to shut my eyes.”

Can we meet these challenges? Not at the 90% level. Not at the 80% level. The challenges presented by our fierce need to be individual reduce us to accepting a very modest success rate, above insignificant but well below satisfactory.

Your individuality demands that you write an excellent novel. It is great in spots and ordinary in spots and terrible in spots. Was that an insignificant effort? No. Do you feel satisfied? No. Challenge bravely tackled, leading to a 20% victory.

Your individuality demands that you denounce the immoral practices in your profession. Your peers mock you and make sure that you get no business. But the outside world listens a little. Challenge bravely tackled, leading to a 9% victory.

Your individuality demands that you see for yourself what’s beyond the horizon. This leads to some excellent adventures and some terrible misadventures. You come home wiser and battered. Challenge bravely tackled, leading to a 12% victory.

Even if we do manage to persevere—to write our poems, to battle our windmills, to right some wrongs—it is not without a thousand ups and downs, countless frustrations and disappointments, and every manner of rage and dirge.

A Kirist accepts this reality, learns from experience, and creates her marching orders. She may spend her days in a kitchen or an office but that doesn’t mean that she isn’t marching. She is continuously choosing to be her authentic self.

Individuality demands choosing. Maybe you wonder if you ought to continue at your current job. Maybe you wonder if you should embark on writing a screenplay. Maybe you wonder if you should point out a wrong. How will you choose?

Not by attending a workshop. Not by visiting an astrologer. Not by seeking out a pastor. Not by reading a self-help book. Not by calling a psychic. Not by consulting a psychiatrist. You take that Kirist step to one side, face the matter, and decide.

You look to your own answers. Maybe you are not in a position to diagnose your prickly rash or to know if you’ve written an effective contract. Maybe those are questions for experts. But for life questions, you are your own expert.

You decide which are the worthy actions and which are the unworthy actions. You decide what to value and how to make sense of your many often-contradictory values, values that awkwardly tumble together in real-life situations.

And you remember to serve the good. Kirists serve the good. You do not take your mandate to individuality as license to grandiosity, narcissism or naked self- interest. This isn’t so easy to accomplish, as all that greed wants to keep bubbling up.

Isn’t the pull to individuality going to incline you toward a demanding personality where you feel entitled to interrupt, out-shout, ignore, trample, dismiss, sulk and strive arrogantly for what you want? Kirists know this narcissism is in them.

The more you proudly invoke your individuality, the more you may find yourself in conflict between Kirist modesty and native grandiosity, between Kirist goodness and genetic self-interest, between Kirist individuality and simple narcissism.

To handle this conflict may require that you encourage a personality upgrade. Who would you like to be ideally? A Kirist asks that bold question and invites up an answer. Are you already your best you? That’s highly unlikely.

Maybe you repeatedly behave in a cruel way, because you were humiliated as a child and find it viscerally satisfying to destroy others. As the universe does not arbitrate meaning, you have that option available to you. But a Kirist refuses.

Maybe you like to storm about because you thrive on drama. Maybe you’ve gotten into the habit of blaming and hating. Maybe you’ve left the battlefield and gone into hiding. You’ve ended up somewhere—but that mustn’t be the end point.

Maybe out of anxiety you leave things undone and avoid living your life purposes. The universe has no way to reduce your anxiety and, by virtue of its starkness and relentlessness, only increases it. Kirists must create their own calmness.

Maybe your edge isn’t grandiosity or arrogance but meekness and passivity. Then your personality upgrade would look very different from a narcissist’s. Yours might look like a fierce warrior butterfly finally emerging from its cocoon of safety.

Just as we accept the burdens of individuality, self-obligation, self-authorship, absurd rebellion, and goodness, we accept the burden of transforming ourselves into a more ideal version of ourselves, into the Kirist version of ourselves.

To learn more about Kirism, please take a look at Lighting the Way, in which Kirism is introduced.