Fear of Infinity

      I came across an interesting quote by Kirk Schneider, in his book, Rediscovery of Awe: Splendor, Mystery, and The Fluid Centre of Life. The quote reads, "The death of a beloved one--especially if it is faced--strips away the illusion of containment; it unveils life's infinity. This infinity is the great secret that classic writers of the macabre betray--if only we could perceive it." (p.33) I found this quote surprising, because I tend to think of the biggest fear in life as 'finity' and not infinity at all. When I think of fears that I have, they usually relate to losing things that are precious or important to me: loved ones, friends, job, status, health, and so on. Fear of losing what I love and having what I don't like is one suffering that is described in the Buddhist Four Noble Truths. But I can also relate to what Kirk Schneider is describing as well. I think he is describing an insecurity of knowing that what I hold dear could be taken away, and there is no rule to prevent that from happening. Schneider describes the horror protagonist as someone who is "hammered by being". There is never a guarantee that something is going to last forever, and nothing I can do can make that different. Behind the 'horror' story he describes, there is a kind of sense that the universe might even be indifferent to what one might consider to be human.
   Schneider describes the horror of infinity, though I haven't yet got to the part in the book where he might speak of delighting in its possibility. But I think that most of the great tragedies are attempts to reconcile with the infinite. Shakespeare's King Lear is an example of a story of someone who gets hammered by being. Lear expects his daughter Cordelia to be flattering toward him and demonstrate love in a way that models his expectations of a loving daughter. When she does not reciprocate, Lear is thrown into his own inner chaos: the sense that anything is possible, and the universe is not operating according to Lear's rules or imperatives. The rest of the play is essentially Lear's process of losing the stability of his power to two scheming daughters, 'going mad', and eventually reconciling with Cordelia, perhaps when it is all too late for both Lear and Cordelia. Lear recognizes that he is not identical to his power, or to the identity he thought he was in relation to his family. But in order to go through this process, it seems that Lear needs to taste the experience of not being as in control as he believes. It is similar to many of H.P. Lovecraft's stories, where the protagonists discover dimensions in which what they thought is human no longer applies. An indifferent or even hostile universe seems to emerge from this picture.
   Why does it seem that the highest people need to fall into 'infinity' in order to be reconciled to it? I suppose it's an easy question to answer, if I remember that Buddha also chose an uncertain journey in favor of the power and comfort of his princely life. But Buddha's story is also a different one, because it is an attempt to find principles of mind, rather than basking or simply reeling in chaos. It is not that Buddha saw this infinite possibility in the ill or the dying or homeless person, and said, "there are no rules, nothing to live for". Rather, seeing all these possibilities which lie outside his sphere of privilege and power was a sort of invitation for the Buddha to explore and seek that which is not moved by attachments to existence, or pleasures, or status. On the other hand, the sight of people dying, homeless and sick must have challenged the worldview that felt most comfortable to the Buddha. And it's only by seeing the monk that the Buddha is lead to imagine some other life that is not drawn into attachments. Without that hope in whatever form it takes,  I wonder how people could face chaos again without going into a defensive shell.

Schneider, Kirk J, (2004) Rediscovery of Awe: Splendor, Mystery, and The Fluid Centre of Life. St Paul: Paragon House.