“A Container of Containers”

“A Container of Containers”

A few months ago I had a chance encounter with a fellow musician.  I’m a violinist, he’s a guitarist.  We had come together to perform with a symphony orchestra for hundreds of fifth grade students from all over our region in a series of educational concerts.  Also, he had taught for my music school briefly a handful of years back.  I noted how mature he had become, and we got to talking about the shape of life.

We discussed turning points, decisions, pathways, choices.  All different words for the same thing.

Life, we concluded, is a container of containers.  The secret to happiness is recognizing that once we commit to a container we need to be at peace with that, at least for a while.  The secret to success is choosing the right containers at least slightly more than half of the time, even though we’re always and inevitably dealing with incomplete information.

Let me explain this premise a bit, because it’s worth thinking about, and will help you think about your life with constructive detachment.

I sometimes hear people say that we should live in the present, that now is all we have, and that life is just one big eternal now.  My view on this is nuanced.  I understand why people say it, but you could just as easily say that the past is all we have.  Or…that the future is all we have, which is what the philosopher Heidegger said.  Every moment is a juncture that brings a new choice, and each choice plots our new course, even if we feel like we’re going in the same direction as before - every moment is an act of creation, and the possibilities might as well be infinite, which presents us with a crushing existential burden.

How do we mitigate this?  We build, find, and form containers.  That’s what your life is - a set of different containers to limit your field of choices.  And we do this as a society as well, which is one way of limiting your choices as an individual.  Some containers are selected for you simply because of your various group affiliations.

When you’re born, they bring you home from the hospital, and then you have a while until you make choices.  Gradually you became more aware.

There you are in your high chair.  You’re having a grand time, making choices!  You move your arm to the right, you put your other arm on your head.  You make a funny babble.  You grab the spoon and splatter pureed peas on the floor.  Many choices!  But all contained by the high chair with its carefully curated objects presented to you by your doting parents.  In other situations you would have more options, and many of them could kill you, as your parents well know.

More time.

There you are crawling around the living room.  You pull yourself up on the couch.  You look at the ceiling.  You pick up your favorite book.  You put some blocks in your mouth.  You are contained by the living room, again with careful curation by your conscientious parents.

More time.

There you are in elementary school.  That’s a big container, but a container nonetheless.  It has other containers like your homeroom, the cafeteria, the gymnasium, the art room, the music room, the playground, each with their own presentation of possibilities.  And you go through your years there, making choices, selecting from a wider and wider variety as you mature and earn greater independence.

More time.

There you are in high school.  That’s a large container.  And you now have the freedom to navigate other containers, like the container of your first car, the roads, your city, your local hangouts, shopping centers, restaurants, theaters.

As time passes and you grow in awareness your level of independence and freedom expands, which allows you to personally and individually select and explore more and more containers.

What container is next?  College?  Technical school?  Your first job?  The Peace Corp?  The armed forces?  What field do you enter?  What subject do you study?  What specialization do you select?  What do you value in the process?  These are all containers, and inevitably you must choose.

Each and every choice is a turning point, an entry into a new container or set of containers (we inhabit numerous containers at numerous scales all of the time), all designed to limit your freedom in various ways, to constructively constrict your possible choices so that you can more easily structure your actions as you navigate each day so as not to become existentially overwhelmed.

And if you’re lucky you can choose many of these containers, because some we can’t.  And when you inhabit the right containers you will feel free.  And when you inhabit the wrong ones you will feel trapped.  But we all have to choose them at one point or another, because life is a container of containers.  And every container contains other containers, because this works at so very many scales.  Organizations, locations, relationships, groups, activities - all are containers oriented toward different ends that will allow you to align your actions to various purposes.

So, how are your containers fitting?  Are you at peace in your containers?  And if not, what will you do about it?  Often it is hard to see past the container.  But we are free.  Our futures, as Heidegger knew, are open, and they are more open at this moment in time than they have ever been for anyone.

Don’t forget the freedom that so much tragic human history has afforded you.  Contemplate your current containers.  And choose your next containers wisely.  And be at peace with your choices.  And make them as beautiful as you are able.

Life is a container of containers.

Want to talk about your container of containers?  I’d love to!