April 22, 1958
57 Perry Street
New York City
Dear Hume,
You ask advice: ah, what a very human and very dangerous thing to do! For to give advice
to a man who asks what to do with his life implies something very close to egomania. To
presume to point a man to the right and ultimate goal—to point with a trembling
finger in the RIGHT direction is something only a fool would take upon himself.
I am not a fool, but I respect your sincerity in asking my
advice. I ask you though, in listening to what I say, to remember that all advice can
only be a product of the man who gives it. What is truth to one may be a disaster to
another. I do not see life through your eyes, nor you through mine. If I were to attempt
to give you
specific advice, it would be too much like the blind leading the blind.
"To be, or not to be: that is the question: Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to
suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of
troubles..."
(Shakespeare)
And indeed, that IS the question: whether to float with the tide, or to swim for a goal.
It is a choice we must all make consciously or unconsciously at one time in our lives.
So few people understand this! Think of any decision you've ever made which had a
bearing on your future: I may be wrong, but I don't see how it could have been anything
but a choice however indirect—between the two things I've mentioned: the floating
or the swimming.
But why not float if you have no goal? That is another question.
It is unquestionably better to enjoy the floating than to swim in uncertainty. So how
does a man find a goal? Not a castle in the stars, but a real and tangible thing. How
can a man be sure he's not after the "big rock candy mountain," the enticing sugar-candy
goal that has little taste and no substance?
The answer—and, in a sense, the tragedy of life—is
that we seek to understand the goal and not the man. We set up a goal which demands of
us certain things: and we do these things. We adjust to the demands of a concept which
CANNOT be valid. When you were young, let us say that you wanted to be a fireman. I feel
reasonably safe in saying that you no longer want to be a fireman. Why? Because your
perspective has changed. It's not the fireman who has changed, but you. Every man is the
sum total of his reactions to experience. As your experiences differ and multiply, you
become a different man, and hence your perspective changes. This goes on and on. Every
reaction is a learning process; every significant experience alters your perspective.
So it would seem foolish, would it not, to adjust our lives to
the demands of a goal we see from a different angle every day? How could we ever hope to
accomplish anything other than galloping neurosis?
The answer, then, must not deal with goals at all, or not with
tangible goals, anyway. It would take reams of paper to develop this subject to
fulfillment. God only knows how many books have been written on "the meaning of man" and
that sort of thing, and god only knows how many people have pondered the subject. (I use
the term "god only knows" purely as an expression.) There's very little sense in my
trying to give it up to you in the proverbial nutshell, because I'm the first to admit
my absolute lack of qualifications for reducing the meaning of life to one or two
paragraphs.
I'm going to steer clear of the word "existentialism," but you
might keep it in mind as a key of sorts. You might also try something called
Being and Nothingness by Jean-Paul Sartre, and another little thing called
Existentialism: From Dostoyevsky to Sartre. These are merely suggestions. If
you're genuinely statisfied with what you are and what you're doing, then give those
books a wide berth. (Let sleeping dogs lie.) But back to the answer. As I said, to put
our faith in tangible goals would seem to be, at best, unwise. So we do not strive to be
firemen, we do not strive to be bankers, nor policemen, nor doctors. WE STRIVE TO BE
OURSELVES.
But don't misunderstand me. I don't mean that we can't BE
firemen, bankers, or doctors—but that we must make the goal conform to the
individual, rather than make the individual conform to the goal. In every man, heredity
and environment have combined to produce a creature of certain abilities and
desires—including a deeply ingrained need to function in such a way that his life
will be MEANINGFUL. A man has to BE something; he has to matter.
As I see it then, the formula runs something like this: a man
must choose a path which will let his ABILITIES function at maximum efficiency toward
the gratification of his DESIRES. In doing this, he is fulfilling a need (giving himself
identity by functioning in a set pattern toward a set goal) he avoids frustrating his
potential (choosing a path which puts no limit on his self-development), and he avoids
the terror of seeing his goal wilt or lose its charm as he draws closer to it (rather
than bending himself to meet the demands of that which he seeks, he has bent his goal to
conform to his own abilities and desires).
In short, he has not dedicated his life to reaching a
pre-defined goal, but he has rather chosen a way of like he KNOWS he will enjoy. The
goal is absolutely secondary: it is the
functioning toward the goal which is important. And it seems almost ridiculous to
say that a man MUST function in a pattern of his own choosing; for to let another man
define your own goals is to give up one of the most meaningful aspects of life—the
definitive act of will which makes a man an individual.
Let's assume that you think you have a choice of eight paths to
follow (all pre-defined paths, of course). And let's assume that you can't see any real
purpose in any of the eight. Then—and here is the essence of all I've
said—you MUST FIND A NINTH PATH.
Naturally, it isn't as easy as it sounds. you've lived a
relatively narrow life, a vertical rather than a horizontal existence. So it isn't any
too difficult to understand why you seem to feel the way you do. But a man who
procrastinates in his CHOOSING will inevitably have his choice made for him by
circumstance.
So if you now number yourself among the disenchanted, then you
have no choice but to accept things as they are, or to seriously seek something else.
But beware of looking for
goals: look for a way of life. Decide how you want to live and then see what you
can do to make a living WITHIN that way of life. But you say, "I don't know where to
look; I don't know what to look for."
And there's the crux. Is it worth giving up what I have to look
for something better? I don't know—is it? Who can make that decision but you? But
even by DECIDING TO LOOK, you go a long way toward making the choice.
If I don't call this to a halt, I'm going to find myself writing
a book. I hope it's not as confusing as it looks at first glance. Keep in mind, of
course, that this is MY WAY of looking at things. I happen to think that it's pretty
generally applicable, but you may not. Each of us has to create our own credo—this
merely happens to be mine.
If any part of it doesn't seem to make sense, by all means call
it to my attention. I'm not trying to send you out "on the road" in search of Valhalla,
but merely pointing out that it is not necessary to accept the choices handed down to
you by life as you know it. There is more to it than that—no one HAS to do
something he doesn't want to do for the rest of his life. But then again, if that's what
you wind up doing, by all means convince yourself that you HAD to do it. You'll have
lots of company.
And that's it for now. Until I hear from you again, I remain,
your friend...
Hunter
