Skip to main content

Fictional Finalism

 


Is your life driven by your past or more by your future? Psychologist Alfred Adler argued that our goals and ideals (which lie in the future) motivate our actions much more than our childhood and other past experiences. Some of our goals and ideals may be far-fetched. Yet these future possibilities guide us more strongly than all our past experiences. 

Life is never an easy process. It is a protracted pain with occasional bouts of joys and excitements. We accept all the pain as natural and inevitable. It is like a long train journey in India. The dust and filth in the train as well as outside, the noises and delays and tasteless food and umpteen other unpleasant things are accepted as normal part of the journey. But the tender coconut that comes when the Warangal sun is boiling your innards is a memorable delight. The sight of the rear end of the train as a bend in the rails is being negotiated may animate the child in you. We have a natural affinity with joyful experiences though such experiences are rather ephemeral. Life becomes bearable because of those small little joys.

Our goals and ideals serve similar functions in life as those small little delights do during the train journey. These goals and ideals make life appear purposeful. They add hope to the depressing realities around. They add charm to the ruggedness of the journey called life.

Moreover, they make us feel that we are the masters of our lives rather than puppets dangling on strings pulled by mysterious forces. They give us the consoling impression that we are the causes rather than effects of what is happening in our lives. They convince us that we possess the freedom as well as ability to forge our future. That we are not just a bundle of scars.

There is something fictional about it all. The scars are more real than the goals. But we need the goals more.

Later Adler modified the phraseology. He replaced ‘fictional finalism’ with ‘guiding self-ideal’. Either way, it means an individual’s visualisation of what he/she wants to achieve in life. It gives sense and purpose and direction to life. It gives us the power to choose what we will accept as truth (truth is not as fixed and definite as we are often told by peddlers of absolute truths), how we will behave and how we will interpret events.

However, our guiding self-ideals can be unrealistic and non-adaptive. It really is fiction, in other words. Psychologically unhealthy people nurture unrealistic and non-adaptive self-ideals. Healthy individuals have realistic and adaptive goals and ideals.

J D Salinger’s classical protagonist, Holden Caulfield, is an example of those with unrealistic and non-adaptive self-ideals. Holden is a 16-year-old boy who has a messianic ideal. He wants to protect the innocence of children from the perversions of the adults. He wants an innocent world, in other words. His 9-year-old sister tells him that he is chasing a chimera. His favourite teacher counsels him that it is better to live humbly for ordinary causes than die heroically for a large cause.

Religious fundamentalists and messianic figures abound in our world in spite of all the progress we have made with the help of science and rationality. These are people driven by impossible goals and ideals. Driven by sheer fiction. Just like Holden Caulfield. They are chasing chimeras.

One of the characteristics that separate the sane from the insane is the honest, personable and accurate grasp they have on how realistic, how achievable, their goals are. Are the goals of religious fundamentalists and self-anointed messiahs realistic and achievable?

Fictional finalism is good. We all need guiding ideals and goals. But these goals and ideals should be realistic and achievable. They should not be meteors in the heavens for whose sake we sacrifice our fellow beings.

PS. This is powered by #BlogchatterA2Z

Read the previous parts of this series below:

A: Absurdity

B: Bandwagon Effect

C: Chiquitita’s Sorrows

D: Delusions

E: Ego Integrity

Tomorrow: The Good Child

Comments

  1. 'The scars are more real than the goals.' Well said. Yet they're important to remind us of the effort we put to get through the journey of life.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Both the scars and the goals have their place in life. But we shouldn't let scars determine the course of our life.

      Delete
  2. Totally agree with you that religious fundamentalists and their coterie are not only setting unachievable goals for themselves but convince people of the same. Live humbly for small cause is the right way as u wrote also small happiness as u pointed out adds charm to life. A wonderful series
    Deepika Sharma

    ReplyDelete
  3. A very interesting post. Enjoyed reading.

    ReplyDelete
  4. I appreciate the concept. All the same, in my humble opinion, some goals are so worthy that it's glorious even to fail.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Of course. I was speaking about the impossible religious causes which make people fight among themselves.

      Delete
  5. So is fictional finalism kind of akin to don quixote titlting at the windmills?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh no. There are realistic goals galore. Psychologically healthy people have realistic goals and achieve them too thus giving purposeful direction to life.

      Delete
  6. Wow, Tomichan! This is deep. My first read of your challenge this year. Will be coming back to catch up on the previous posts. #BlogchatterA2Z

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Will be delighted to have you here more frequently.

      Delete
  7. Very meaningful. We do let our past drive our life more and hence mistakes repeat, or we get caught up in the vicious circle of despair. Learning from past from a detached space can help us craft a better future.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes, we need to Learn from the past. After that the movement should be forward.

      Delete
  8. That we are not just a bundle of scars. I loved your perspective and thought flow! Deeply insightful!

    ReplyDelete
  9. I think we must have some goals that are unrealistic and seemingly unachievable- they push you. Though I agree on the bit about not sacrificing your fellow beings for such goals... those are delusions..

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Right. Probably it's also about knowing how much is in your possible reach.

      Delete
  10. I loved how you compared with the train journey . It was painted quite an imagery! And I completely agree with keeping our goals realistic. My favourite line is 'The scars are more real than the goals.'

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Pranita a perverted genius

Bulldozer begins its work at Sawan Pranita was a perverted genius. She had Machiavelli’s brain, Octavian’s relentlessness, and Levin’s intellectual calibre. She could have worked wonders if she wanted. She could have created a beautiful world around her. She had the potential. Yet she chose to be a ruthless exterminator. She came to Sawan Public School just to kill it. A religious cult called Radha Soami Satsang Beas [RSSB] had taken over the school from its owner who had never visited the school for over 20 years. This owner, a prominent entrepreneur with a gargantuan ego, had come to the conclusion that the morality of the school’s staff was deviating from the wavelengths determined by him. Moreover, his one foot was inching towards the grave. I was also told that there were some domestic noises which were grating against his patriarchal sensibilities. One holy solution for all these was to hand over the school and its enormous campus (nearly 20 acres of land on the outskirts

Queen of Religion

She looked like Queen Victoria in the latter’s youth but with a snow-white head. She was slim, fair and graceful. She always smiled but the smile had no life. Someone on the campus described it as a “plastic smile.” She was charming by physical appearance. Soon all of us on the Sawan school campus would realise how deceptive appearances were. Queen took over the administration of Sawan school on behalf of her religious cult RSSB [Radha Soami Satsang Beas]. A lot was said about RSSB in the previous post. Its godman Gurinder Singh Dhillon is now 70 years old. I don’t know whether age has mellowed his lust for land and wealth. Even at the age of 64, he was embroiled in a financial scam that led to the fall of two colossal business enterprises, Fortis Healthcare and Religare finance. That was just a couple of years after he had succeeded in making Sawan school vanish without a trace from Delhi which he did for the sake of adding the school’s twenty-odd acres of land to his existing hun

Machiavelli the Reverend

Let us go today , you and I, through certain miasmic streets. Nothing will be quite clear along our way because this journey is through some delusions and illusions. You will meet people wearing holy robes and talking about morality and virtues. Some of them will claim to be god’s men and some will make taller claims. Some of them are just amorphous. Invisible. But omnipotent. You can feel their power around you. On you. Oppressing you. Stifling you. Reverend Machiavelli is one such oppressive power. You will meet Franz Kafka somewhere along the way. Joseph K’s ghost will pass by. Remember Joseph K who was arrested one fine morning for a crime that nobody knew anything about? Neither Joseph nor the men who arrest him know why Joseph K is arrested. The power that keeps Joseph K under arrest is invisible. He cannot get answers to his valid questions from the visible agents of that power. He cannot explain himself to that power. Finally, he is taken to a quarry outside the town wher

Nakulan the Outcast

Nakulan was one of the many tenants of Hevendrea . A professor in the botany department of the North Eastern Hill University, he was a very lovable person. Some sense of inferiority complex that came from his caste status made him scoff the very idea of his lovability. He lived with his wife and three children in one of Heavendrea’s many cottages. When he wanted to have a drink, he would walk over to my hut. We sipped our whiskies and discussed Shillong’s intriguing politics or something of the sort while my cassette player crooned gently in the background. Nakulan was more than ten years my senior by age. He taught a subject which had never aroused my interest at any stage of my life. It made no difference to me whether a leaf was pinnately compound or palmately compound. You don’t need to know about anther and stigma in order to understand a flower. My friend Levin would have ascribed my lack of interest in Nakulan’s subject to my egomania. I always thought that Nakulan lived

Octavian the Guru

Octavian was one of my students in college. Being a student of English literature, he had reasons to establish a personal rapport with me. It took me months to realise that the rapport was fake. He was playing a role for the sake of Rev Machiavelli . Octavian was about 20 years old and I was nearly double his age. Yet he could deceive me too easily. The plain truth is that anyone can deceive me as easily even today. I haven’t learnt certain basic lessons of life. Sheer inability. Some people are like that. Levin would say that my egomania and the concomitant hubris prevented my learning of the essential lessons of life. That would have been true in those days when Octavian took me for a farcical ride. By the time that ride was over, I had learnt at least one thing: that my ego was pulped. More than 20 years have passed after that and I haven’t still learnt to manage affairs in the world of people. That’s why I admit my sheer inability to learn some fundamental lessons of life. Th