Making Meaning

Studies have shown that a purpose driven life contributes to one’s overall happiness. Just to cite one article (from Forbes):

Purpose contributes to happiness—when participants in a study felt a greater sense of purpose, they tended to feel more positive emotions—specifically contentment, relaxation, enthusiasm and joy. And they felt less angry, anxious, sluggish or sad. They also reported greater satisfaction with life and overall wellbeing.

The NIH also has a nice article on its affects on health.

Purpose arises both from ourselves – our own personal meaning making – and from beyond ourselves. (This is all coming back to writing and world building, eventually).

Existentialism speaks to how we as individuals must give meaning to our lives. To quote from the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy:

we are always in the process of making or creating who we are as our life unfolds. This means our essence is not given in advance; we are contingently thrown into existence and are burdened with the task of creating ourselves through our choices and actions.

we are free and responsible for who we are and what we do. This does not mean we are wholly undetermined but, rather, that we are always beyond or more than ourselves because of our capacity to interpret and give meaning to whatever limits or determines us.

Existentialists are critical of our ingrained tendency to conform to the norms and expectations of the public world because it prevents us from being authentic or true to ourselves. An authentic life is one that is willing to break with tradition and social convention and courageously affirm the freedom and contingency of our condition. It is generally understood to refer to a life lived with a sense of urgency and commitment based on the meaning-giving projects that matter to each of us as individuals.

a moral or praiseworthy life is possible. It is one where we acknowledge and own up to our freedom, take full responsibility for our choices, and act in such a way as to help others realize their freedom.

While existentialists would reject that notion of external essence/meaning, still I think some of this would match, e.g., the Quakers who listen for that small still voice within (God/the Light), who strive to live with integrity, being true to the self and that inner Light/voice.

I think also of the prophet in Nevil Shute‘s  Round the Bend, who operates in a Muslim/Buddhist tradition and says that praying 5 times a day is the absolute minimum, that every action should be an act of prayer (he tells an old legend about Moses, Muhammad, and God and reducing the required prayer times from 50 to 5). He works as an airplane mechanic and sees his work and doing it at his best is an act of prayer – he gives meaning to even the smallest of mechanical acts. His ideas also evoke the Buddist 8 Fold Path.

And there’s my transition to writing. Characters, like ourselves, struggle to make meaning in their lives. And fictional worlds, like our own, have philosophical and religious systems of belief, as well as social institutions, that people turn to or are ingrained in that help them do so. I find intriguing the different ways this plays out in fictional worlds.

In Star Trek TNG, humanity seems to have evolved (so to speak) beyond religion. Counselors take the place of chaplains, psychology rather than religion. In the episode, Sub Rosa, Beverly Crusher attends her grandmother’s funeral and we hear a governor say:

And so now we commit her body to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, in sure and certain hope that her memory will be kept alive within us all.

This is a secularization of the Anglican Book of Common Prayer phrase:

We therefore commit this body to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in sure and certain hope of the Resurrection to eternal life.

On the other hand, in Babylon 5, a multiplicity of religions shape meaning for both Terrans and Extraterrestrials. So in contrast to ST TNG,  the Babylon 5 episode TKOIvanova, with the encouragement of her old rabbi, finds sitting shiva helps her come to terms with her relationships with and loss of her father.

Both work, both provide grounds to positively provide meaning to the characters. One can think of works where the only meaning in a protagonist’s life just seems to be defined by their opposition to the antagonist. I think of Harry Potter. His life is defined by his (worthy) opposition to Voldemort. Christmas and Easter arise solely as breaks from school and great feasts (and present giving) but no connection back to their religious origins and meanings.  Opposing evil is, of course, important. But having one’s own meaning beyond that enriches the character.

I like how the various religions of the Force have expanded out from the Dark and Light sides to more complex and varied systems of belief (e.g. The Guardians of the Whills and Chirrut Îmwe in Rogue One).

In my own writing, religion is central to the lives of many of my characters. Prayers and sacrifices appear regularly. And the gods and goddesses do walk the world, mucking around with mortals’ lives. Yet my characters vary in how they interact with the divine. Dido is a deeply faithful woman and seeks moral conduct through religious precepts. Helenus, a prophet, has direct experience of the gods through visions, yet tries to walk his own path sometimes in opposition to divine will. And, as I wrote my first novel in this world, I realized my character Anna was an atheist. Some of my writing group questioned how she could be an atheist when the gods were real. But belief about reality and what is real are separate questions. Our experience (or lack thereof) of the divine affects our internal beliefs, not any external existence of the divine. So in the real world, there exist atheists, agnostics, spiritualists, and religious/theists. Many people have had an experience of the divine, but that doesn’t alter the reality of those who haven’t and don’t believe.

How does religion play a role – or not – in your own writing? How do your characters seek meaning in their lives?

Was Dido real?

Our evidence for early Carthage, and thus for Dido, is limited. Vergil provides the earliest extant text and his work is heavily overlaid with myth and legends. Could there have been a Dido (a.k.a. Elissa, probably from the original Phoenician Elishat) who led the Phoenicians from Tyre to found the “new city” (in Phoenician, Cart Hadasht)?

Ancient history certainly points to such a possibility, as there were a number of powerful queens whom the Romans encountered (well, more they tended to come into conflict with them — the Romans did not always play nicely with their neighbors) as well as many others documented in history. Here’s a page with just a few. Pay particular attention to Cleopatra.

To learn more about these and others, you can also visit an on-line catalogue of warrior women, political leaders, and other distinguished women, alternatively some not very nice ones on Queens of Infamy, and also on one of my favorites: Rejected Princesses.

Dido’s Playlist

In Vergil’s Aeneid, Dido had a doomed affair with Aeneas, which ended in her death. But what if she survived? How would that impact history? This is a question I ponder in my (not-yet-published) novel. And this is a playlist to go with that alt-myth in which she not only survives, but triumphs (in order of emotion). Shout out to my colleague, Ben, for his suggestion of Blank Space. For  Vergil’s original version, the playlist works through “Bad Blood” then can skip to “Look What You Made Me Do,” only what Aeneas made her do in The Aeneid is very different than what she does in my novel.