Ask ten people what they consider to be the most important
thing in life, and you may well generate ten different concepts of
essentials. However, explore those ten
answers in more depth, revise the scenario to include the possibility of being
isolated from human contact, and the critical concern that those respondents
will come up with is that a specific person would be the most essential element
to be included in that existence.
Human beings are, like many beasts of the wild, wired to
need social contact. For some, that
contact may be minimal, but all of us need interaction. Does that mean that we view others as vital,
or are we so completely narcissistic that we view fellow man as nothing more
than a need to make our life complete?
Regardless of why we need people with whom to interact, the
stimulation that man provides for man completes a significant component of how
we view ourselves. As far back as 1943, psychologist Abraham Maslow postulated
that the need for belonging, love, friendship and human interaction neared the
base of his hierarchy of needs, just above the need for safety.
The male of the species has been bound, it seems, to man’s
best friend – the dog. While our
connection to this four-legged friend undoubtedly offers something
psychologically satisfying to humans, it lacks the completeness of human to
human involvement. The connection
fulfills, on the surface, the need to have someone, or something else,
understand us.
Gang membership, and, in turn, gang initiation, draws on the
desire to belong, and to be involved in something that sees us, individually,
as something special. While, superficially, gang members appear to lose that
individuality, they do view themselves, in fact, as disparate and unique from
the rest of the world, or the rest of the neighbourhood.
There may be precious little difference between the desire
to be a gang member and the desire to belong to an elite club, or a segment of
society that has riches to flaunt. Both
say to the initiate, pledge or member, “You are part of something special and
unique, and therefore, you, too, are unique.”
The idea of looking to be a part of something that someone
else cannot be a part of is coloured with liberal dollops of narcissistic
personality. Yet, is it wrong? And how is it different, for example, from
seeking to find that special aspect or part of our lives that fulfills us?
I have chosen a minimalistic way of life. Does eschewing material acquisition make be
the antithesis of narcissistic?
Hardly. I choose this lifestyle
specifically because I feel that I want to focus, not on frills, but on fewer,
but more significant benefits and luxuries in my life. To simply forfeit things for the sake of
forfeit gains neither the minimalist or society at large anything. It is akin to being a lowly carrion-eater,
and choosing to ignore the carrion that it finds, in case someone else might
come upon it and want it.
When I began my journey toward voluntary simplicity, and
opted to focus on fewer, but more significant things in my life, I had not
contemplated the philosophical dilemma of choosing specifically what the most
important thing in my life would be. I
had a concept of things and experiences that would be more significant to me
than others, but had not established an absolute priority. That changed, dramatically, this week.
On Tuesday, my wife awoke, drenched in sweat, breathing
shallowly, experiencing numbness on her right side, and thoroughly
nauseated. Within seconds, I had her in
the car, heading toward the hospital.
Driving as quickly as I could from our isolated home toward the local
hospital, I called 911, and was escorted through the protocols as I rushed to intercept the
dispatched ambulance. When I determined
that I could make it closer to the hospital, rather than park on the highway
and await the emergency vehicle, I became quite belligerent with the dispatcher
who wanted me to be in an identifiable location for the EMS drivers. My anger increased as the seconds passed, and
my wife’s symptoms worsened.
Ultimately, the ambulance arrived, my wife was rushed to
another hospital thirty miles distant (where better diagnostics could be
conducted), and her impending critical incident was averted. I am very pleased to say that, while she was
close to a severe crisis, she has recovered fully, thanks to the speedy
response of the EMS team and the skills and dedication of the hospital staff.
However, what I learned was that all of the important things
that I had casually itemized in recent years truly were minimal in relation to
the one important thing in my life: the valued relationship and love affair
that I have with Janice. I learned many
valuable lessons, but the most vital lesson learned is that the most important
thing in everyone’s life should not be a thing at all, but a feeling: the feeling that you have for someone
important in your life. For many of us,
that someone may not even be human, but a pet or animal pal. The most important “non-thing,” even for us
minimalists, should be a feeling that has its basis in narcissism, but
ultimately ends in completely submerging our own wants and desires in favour of
the needs of another. Call it love, or
call it selflessness. Call it what you
want. The most important thing in life
is to place all things behind the commitment to another living being.
