In the name of God, the Most Merciful, the Most Compassionate Once again I find myself musing about Satan. He is a striking, almost pathetic figure: a djinn (immaterial being) who was foremost in worship turned bitter and vengeful upon witnessing God's love for man. I wonder what his feelings towards God were. What drove his anger? Jealousy? Perhaps he wished to know what it would be like to be loved as a man by God, a wish that could never be granted without becoming himself one of the hateful humans. But is it really jealousy that drove his anger? Here we have a complex web of emotions: anger, jealousy, spite, perhaps even self-hatred. How can it be disentangled to make sense of Satan's experiences sympathetically ? By this, I do not mean to agree or condone his motivations, but to understand them as though we were in his place. In the Holy Qur'an, the following story is reported of Iblis or Satan's fall from grace (7:11-18, tr. Abdel-Haleem): We created you, We ...
In the name of God, the Most Merciful, the Most Compassionate
If I were to wish for anything, I should not wish for wealth and power, but for the passionate sense of the potential, for the eye which, ever young and ardent, sees the possible. Pleasure disappoints, possibility never. And what wine is so sparkling, what so fragrant, what so intoxicating, as possibility!
- Kierkegaard, Either/Or: A Fragment of Life (tr. Hannay)
In the film, The Perks of Being a Wallflower, the ending scene is of three teenagers — Charlie, the protagonist, and his two friends — driving down a highway at night, arms outspread, wind blowing in their hair, dazed and enthused. Charlie is made to narrate over this scene: “In this moment, I swear, we are infinite.” And then they shout in eager and splendid joy.
There are similar experiences recorded novels and memoirs. I do not have to search far back in my memory to recall a handful of similar evenings when, had I paused to reflect upon it, I would certainly have said that I too was infinite. For me, these rare moments have always occurred after dusk, on rainy days when I was walking alone down a dimly-lit cobblestone path in the city. It seemed as though the world was full of possibilities, endless thrill, and pure becoming.
There is a peculiar thrill associated with such moments, a sense of ecstatic enthusiasm and glorious freedom. I wish to consider what the meaningfulness and ethics of such moments is from an Islamic perspective. I will argue that these moments manifest a microcosm of God’s independence and freedom in our own limited lives and that they are crucial conditions of authentic living in our own times. Based upon an analysis of what constitutes the phenomenon of the thrill, I will suggest that it is a dangerous condition to pursue, and that it ought to be received and celebrated rather than explicitly sought out.
What is a thrill?
The dictionary definition of the term thrill is “a sudden feeling of excitement or pleasure.” We typically call all sorts of experiences thrilling. It is thrilling to watch a horror film or to ride a roller coaster. There can be a thrill associated with dangerous activities or with breaking the rules, like sneaking out at night after one’s curfew. Someone might feel a thrill at meeting a person they have affection for, or at learning a great secret.
For the purposes of this essay, I want to limit the term thrilling to the particular type of experience which I briefly touched upon above. Rather than exhaustively delineating it, I wish to merely gesture towards that experience, which I propose that we have all felt at some time or another. This experience is constituted by several aspects, some of which the dictionary definition has touched upon.
First, a thrill is primarily characterized by a feeling of excitement. Though this feeling may be subtle, it is nonetheless a feeling of inner swelling and expansion. This is sometimes accompanied by a sudden intake of breath or by quivering.
This excitement is due to the sense of possibility which accompanies the thrill. A thrill arises from consideration of one’s boundless and limitless sense of opportunity and possibilities. This is not only in relation to one’s particular choices, e.g. I have the possibility to do x or y, but in relation to one’s entire being, i.e. I can become x or y. This leads to a sense of limitlessness and infinitude, as Charlie said in the quote above. One feels free in her very being, no longer bound by her past self or her (perception of) her future self.
This is the third main feature of the thrill: one feels a lack of obligations and a sense of freedom. This is what leads to the excitement and expansion as one considers herself as free from impositions upon her and able to consider her being as a being capable of change and possibility. One experiences herself as free from the inside. What I mean by this is: my freedom is not something that has been granted to me, but that is the very nature of my being. I am inherently capable of becoming F or G or somebody completely new. (This is why depictions of thrills are often associated with youth; youthfulness carries possibility.) Importantly, this does not mean that I should become F or G; just that I can. Part of the sense of freedom is in not being obliged to become anything at all.
The primal sense of freedom and possibility is met with deep pleasure. This is a non-trivial point. Sometimes possibility can lead to anxiety or fear. In the case of the thrill, however, one experiences joy at her freedom and possibilities. This is presumably because of the total sense of possibility that one experiences; I am free of all constraints, not just some of them. The pleasure is not one of acquisition, but of freedom from necessity.
All of these features concentrate into a fifth feature: transcending time. The person feels as though time has somehow concentrated and become defined in this moment. It is as though all her past experiences have led to this point of total freedom and possibility. However, and perhaps somewhat paradoxically, the person feels an extended sense of now-ness. She is not considering the past or future as they before or beyond her, but as concentrated into a single moment of ‘now.’ Regardless of how long the experience lasts, she feels as though it is the same now, not separate moments that are strung together. There is a unity to the experience, but also a transcendence.
Lastly, thrills are usually sudden. Although they can be induced or encouraged along, they can also overtake one all of a sudden.
These features, taken by themselves, are associated with many transient phenomena that we may call thrilling. Certainly I have felt a sudden rush of pleasure at riding a rollercoaster or a thrill at breaking my curfew. However, I want to consider the unique type of experience that has all of these features. Other thrilling experiences, I suggest, are thrilling insofar as they imitate this paradigmatic thrill.
Why consider the thrill?
But why even consider a thrill at all? I want to suggest that there are two main reasons for taking the phenomenon of the thrill seriously.
First, it is prevalent in contemporary culture: depictions of the thrill are everywhere in media. Consider Taylor Swift’s recent song, Cardigan, where she croons her impressions from a past relationship:
“Vintage tee, brand new phone / High heels on cobblestones / When you are young, they assume you know nothing. / Sequin smile, black lipstick / Sensual politics / When you are young they assume you know nothing. / But I knew you / Dancing in your Levi’s / Drunk under the streetlight..” and so on.
Rather than some of her other songs, which emphasise passion and desire, this song consists of imagery of youthful possibility and nighttime escapades. Though never explicitly mentioned, of course, the moments that she presents leave a sense of drunken — and yet meaningful — thrills.
Such scenes are consistent. Consider the film Someone Great starring Gina Rodriguez (if you haven’t seen it, just think of any other coming-of-age and/or finding-yourself-post-break-up film). The film is an extended tribute to the protagonist rediscovering possibility and her sense of self after a difficult break up. The ambiance is one of youthful, carefree possibility and learning to embrace possibilities of becoming.
The mere omnipresence of such filmography of possibility would make it worthwhile to consider what is so special about this experience. But I also want to propose, without argument, that thrilling experiences are very meaningful points of contact in one’s life. Some indications of this is how often thrills are sought, how private and precious they seem to the experiencer, the representations of them in popular culture, and the importance of authenticity in popular culture. Some of this meaningfulness must come from the cultural moment that we live within. But regardless of the sociocultural reasons for its omnipresence, the thrill must contain something meaningful within itself that enables us to find it so meaningful.
Why do we experience thrills?
Why do we even experience thrills? I do not mean to ask the precise environmental or neurochemical or material mechanics of how they arise, but why they even exist for beings like us. There are at least two reasons for this:
1. We are the types of beings who are capable of changing our nature. Possibility is part of who we are. Famously, Heidegger asserts this about man in Being and Time (tr. Stambaugh):
The characteristics which are to be found in this being are thus not objectively present “attributes” of an objectively present being which has such and such an “outward appearance,” but rather, possible ways for it to be and only this.
2. From an Islamic perspective, the question is what the thrill reflects. What does it tell us about God and about our relations to Him? In my opinion, the ontological basis of this is as a manifestation of God’s freedom within us. God has many attributes and names. We are infinitesimal microcosms of His paradigmatic mercy, justice, and so on. Similarly, God is al-Ghani i.e. The Self-Sufficient. His freedom exists within every attribute or act of His; there is no external necessity upon Him to be a certain way. There are clear parallels in how we behave to other attributes of His, such as His mercy or His justice. Certainly it is the case that we are not self-sufficient in the slightest — our existence is completely conditional on His. However, I want to suggest that His Self-Sufficiency makes Him totally free, and that this is experienced by us in a very tiny scale in the thrill.
This would explain some of the features of the thrill that were discussed above.
Freedom
The sense of freedom is a reflection of God’s lack of extrinsic necessity. This is the perfect type of freedom: to be able to be Who You are actively and with no possibility of barriers. Similarly, us humans have this at a smaller scale: we are able to become who we are, though there are barriers at times. (Heidegger analyses some of these barriers, such as being too involved in one’s social world to seize one’s own freedom.)
Pleasure and excitement
Thrills are exciting and pleasurable because they reflect a deep part of who we are as people. At a fundamental level, we are aesthetic beings: we can choose to be who we are as individuals in relation to ourselves. This is pleasurable because it frees us from extrinsic (and some intrinsic) limitations.
It is important to emphasise that the pleasure of the thrill is not from acquisition. We have not acquired a good or fulfilled any perfection. The pleasure is from the consideration and experience of one’s possibilities.
Why do some people experience thrills as anxiety-provoking, while others experience them as pleasurable expanses? Paul Tillich describes neurotic anxiety as being different from existential anxiety in The Courage to Be. Neurotic anxiety is “the way of avoiding nonbeing by avoiding being.” He continues,
The difference between the neurotic and the healthy (although potentially neurotic) personality is the following: the neurotic personality, on the basis of his greater sensitivity to nonbeing and consequently of his profounder anxiety, has settled into a fixed, though limited and unrealistic, self-affirmation.
A person who experiences a great deal of so-called neurotic anxiety at possibility is someone who is more sensitive to the possibility of not being. If I consider my possibility for ways of existing, then I am opening myself to the possibility of not existing.
I want to take a similar route in suggesting why some people find thrilling experiences to be anxiety-provoking (without, however, suggesting that this is pathological). The sense of freedom is oppressive because it brings to the fore that they are subject to radical change, death, fate, loss, and all sorts of other unpleasantries. Others, however, seem to attend more to the pleasantries of possibility. The possibility of change is not frightening, but a relief from the tedium of daily life. (Some, indeed, rely on the sense of possibility as an intoxicating and frenzied respite from order.)
Transcending time
Our sense of transcending time and gathering all moments into one moment of extended nowness reflects God’s eternity. If and how God experiences time is a contentious theological issue, but certainly He “encompasses all things in His knowledge” (Qur’an 20:98). Boethius says about God’s eternity in The Consolation of Philosophy (tr. James), “His knowledge surveys past and future in the timelessness of an eternal present.” In order to be truly Self-Sufficient, all states of affairs and events must be present to God. Otherwise, His freedom would be limited by ignorance (and He is far too great for that!) Similarly, although we are indeed ignorant, we feel as though our past experiences collapse into a single moment of time. This makes us feel as though we have transcended our pasts so as to recognise the future as our own. We are no longer determined by our pasts; they are just things for us to consider as we soar above, not chains weighing us down.
Suddenness
The suddenness of thrills means that they cannot be actively cultivated. Why is this the case? I want to suggest that this is an important limitation on the subjective sense of freedom for humans. Unlike God, we actually do have obligations, responsibilities, and other things that are incumbent on us. I cannot stay staring at the stars forever; I have to feed my cat and fix my bed and get lunch ready.
The fact that thrills must be received suggests that they are acts of grace from God; spiritual blessings that we must be grateful for, but cannot pursue. If we were to pursue the sense of freedom, we would not be free. This is because a requirement of freedom is to actually choose to do something. The freedom from the sense of thrill hides our concrete situation so completely that it can be damaging and deluding. To be in a state of consideration of becoming may be intoxicating, but it is also prevents actual becoming. To seize a possibility with full knowledge that one may regret the contraction of possibility is a form of courage and, I propose, our ethical imperative in response to a thrill.
The experience of possibilities of becoming
At first glance, this seems to be an extension of the idea that God is completely free. If He is free, then surely our experience of freedom would be granted by our awareness of existential possibility? However, there is an immediate problem with this suggestion. If it is granted that the sense of the thrill is somehow a partial manifestation within us of God’s freedom and Self-Sufficiency, then why do we experience possibilities of becoming? It cannot be suggested that God has any possibilities of becoming; He is Being itself, certainly, but He does not change. Usually it is argued that change implies imperfection. If a being changes, it was not perfect to begin with. So how does our sense of existential possibility link to God’s immutability (or unchangingness)?
I want to suggest that the difference between our sense of possibility and God’s freedom while immutable is due to our ontological differences. We are able to become anything. God is Who He is, most perfectly. He is actively Whom He is. The human condition, however, is one of becoming for the sake of being. This is not an identical situation to God’s. Our freedom is still circumscribed. This is exactly, however, what allows for the courage to be.
The limits of the thrill
Should we chase thrills? I want to suggest that we should not chase them, but that we should appreciate and celebrate them when they do come.
To chase a thrill is to chase a consideration of one’s sense of limitless possibility. If this is chased, a person is apt not to actually choose to become something. God is free; but He also is actively Who He is. We also have to actively choose to actively be somebody.
However, if one seeks thrills, this is likely to result in one of two things: either one will become melancholic or she will begin to seek impoverished thrills. As to the former, it is a sense of tediousness and pensiveness over how mundane regular life is. As to the latter, it is to settle for cheap thrills, not those that promote authentic and courageous being.
Thrills contain this ethical limit within themselves. They are usually short-lived, sudden affairs. Their nature seems to suggest that they are jolts out of complacency. They are to be received as reminders of our freedom, and hence, of our greater responsibility for being individually good. This is why they should be celebrated, and indeed, why one cannot help but love them.
Conclusion
Overemphasis of the thrill is sometimes depicted as love of life. I want to suggest that overreliance on thrills is fear of life: the fear to become anything. But why should we choose to be moral? After all, aren’t moral obligations exactly the sorts of things that the sense of thrill repudiates?
I want to suggest that living morally opens one to more possibilities. The freedom is greater as the intrinsic and extrinsic necessities become less; I am not enchained by my desires, fears, and so on. Sometimes this is explained as submission. Submission, we are told, gives us life (Qur’an 8:24,tr. Abdel Haleem):
“Believers, respond to God and His Messenger when he calls you to that which gives you life. Know that God comes between a man and his heart, and that you will be gathered to Him.”
Similarly, Syed Naquib al-Attas says in his Prolegomena to the Metaphysics of Islam:
The activity that is called 'freedom' is in ikhtiyar, which is an act, not in hurriyah, which is a condition. The act that is meant in ikhtiyar is that of making a choice...
Freedom, then, is not just in the experiencing of possibilities; but in actually reducing one’s dependency on extrinsic and intrinsic necessities. This is what the moral life does: it does not gaze at possibilities, enthralled, but courageously chooses to seize them and actually be free. This freedom is courageous when it comes from the knowledge that there are other possibilities, and indeed the possibility of merely considering possibility — yet one chooses instead to be. The meaningfulness of the thrill comes from how it forces us to reconsider our relation to the world, ourselves, and consequently to God.
If it is indeed the case that the experience of the thrill indicates a small reflection of the sort of freedom from necessity that God experiences, then this experience can, if properly explored, lead us to a greater understanding of God. However, the issue with such knowledge is that one's assumptions about God can condition how we subsequently view him. This is the point that Michel Chodkiewicz makes in his essay about Ibn Arabi, "The Vision of God,"
Vision stricto sensu, on the contrary, presupposes the absence of this preliminary conditioning of which the contemplator is the prisoner. It receives all theophanies without subjecting them to the test of recognition, without referring them to a previous model. [...] Only he who has lost everything, he whose contemplation is free from all form, attains to the Being in His absoluteness."
The tension to be reconciled, then, is between an absolute freedom--of which we are incapable--and an imposition of concepts on the experience of the thrill which will create extrinsic necessities on this experience. I suggest that the moral life as outlined in the Shariah provides a way for us to in fact reduce the necessities that we impose upon the thrill. Rather than being a condition of necessity that limits our possibilities, the moral life instead allows for a human freedom. (Whether this is by strengthening the self as it seizes possibilities or by annihilating the self to allow for a 'tearing of the veil' between us and God is a question I do not wish to pursue here.) The experience of the thrill points us to the existence of such a freedom; this is why it is enthralling, but also seductive. It is a call to the life.
I pray that God grants us courage and insight. And God knows best.
Comments
Post a Comment
please share your thoughts below