"In the depth of winter, I discovered within myself an invincible summer." -Albert Camus
It was in wartime Paris that Camus developed his philosophy of the absurd--the assertion that life ultimately has no rational meaning. While the philosophy of Camus' fiction often tends to imply that no moral order actually has a rational basis, Camus himself did not act with moral indifference. Rather, since Camus does not draw a direct correlation between the lack of hope and despair, his philosophy can best be characterized as a form of optimism without hope . The absurd hero is a hero because he achieves the ultimate rebellion--that which resists the illusion of a rational order while also resisting despair. - Sparknotes
Camus fascinates me. Not that I think that the question of suicide is the be-all and end-all question of life (To be or not to be...), but the face that he finds an indifference in life and struggles through it all the while. I find this indifference in my life.
"To work and create 'for nothing', to sculpt in clay, to know that one's creation has no future, to see one's work destroyed in a day, while being aware that fundamentally, this has no more importance than building for centuries - this is the difficult wisdom that absurd thought sanctions."
Is this not what I do? Build up stockpiles of information in my mind, learn how to take care of people, heal some, but merely prolonging the wait before death in all. It's like sculpting in sand at low tide. Everything washes away. Yet, I know the beauty is in the moment, at that time, that even though it doesn't last, that very moment in time of beauty is enough in itself. I know this since I have had pain, and I have not had pain, and I would rather the latter.
I both want and need to get myself to the place where the doctor in "The Plague" was on the last page. To know that even though I work tirelessly, and that everything I do is for naught eventually, that I still must do it.
What a terrible thing to be drawn to ponder the philosophical meaning of life while there is the Krebs cycle to study. Though perhaps it is this winter that is bringing out these ponderings. However, not all winter is bad, necessarily. Even winter holds it's own beauty.
In fact, it was a winter day that was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen, so much purity and absolute that it brought tears to my eyes.
Still, I need to discover my invincible summer. I know it's hidden somewhere.