In the lifelong search for meaning, it is inevitable that once in a while you must stop and rethink, reflect. What difference does anything make?
Postmodernity has killed the Grand Narrative, so meaning can only be construed individually. Sometimes that’s a good thing, giving you options and freedom. But other times, especially in the case of breakdowns, there’s no place to turn to—or so we believe.
For a melancholic like myself, this often leads to the consideration: is it really worth it? Seldom does this consideration actually lead to behavioural change, but there are few things that escape the potentiality of being given up altogether. Things I’d sometimes rather be without include:
- Work (not in general, but particular jobs)
- Believing in God
- My Danish citizenship
I’m not depressed, or No. 1 would have negated this very post. I’m not suicidal, either, in spite of the last one. Confused? Yes, very. But hey, who isn’t?