Puzzle Pieces

By: Jonathan Seidel

Intellectual Stimulation 

Though I was sure the final arc of my dive into nihilism would be the emotionally charged piece reaching the abyss of meaninglessness, there may be more hope for me. The post today, the essay on “existential nihilistic religiosity” was written a few months back. I was sitting at a finals for the euro debate conference and those feelings sprouted out. Despite being away from everything and enjoying a blissful week. A week of vacationing in Croatia, debating with the guys and partying each night. All that fun was stifled by internal feelings of sadness and stress. I slept so beautifully that week, tranquil from all the stressors squashing me back home. Yet in a moment of introspection, the surface facade disappeared and the genuine struggle exploited. My deepest secrets exposed. I had discussed my mental state but never wrote it down. After reading it over this morning I was in shock of its depressive mood and its dangerous agenda. Yet, the reality is true. The nihilism creeped from the persisting pain and the depression ensued. 

The concluding remedy is depressing. To overcome my mood and nihilistic tendencies is to continue forward despite the pain. There is no other way. To advance because retreat is not an option. Since that time I have tried to bounce back but I am still stuck in this endless loop. Nothing has changed except the days keep passing. My condition remains the same. It grows harder everyday. The more accumulated pain the more emotional stress. It is a tough life but finding new meaning in life is necessary. Falling in love with my girlfriend has been the greatest aid and also the greatest stress. I finally have something to lose. I am willing to endure the struggle for her because she means that much to me but does not make it simple nor easy. I am getting engaged which will add its own stressors but its worth it. Life is not supposed to be rainbows and unicorns though it also should not be a dark gloomy hole. These are the cards I have been dealt. It is either to play the game or quit. Quitting is not an option. Once you quit it’s over for good. There is no coming back from it.   

Re-watching “House” has influenced me to reflect on myself. “House” is a television series following the the journey of retired diagnostician Greg House and his team who seek to solve the hardest cases. House limps with a cane is a raging cynic and narcissist. He struggles with pain, heavily consuming Vicodin to deal with it.  

I first watched "House" upon returning to the states during the corona stage. I watched all eight seasons within three weeks. I found myself clinging to the character. I identified with House even if I was more an optimist at the time. As a 22 year old walking with a cane for close to a year due to my messed up legs, I understood the scepticism and hating life. I had previously suffered through my first year of university after finishing my army service. My undiagnosed issue was competing with academic level learning. I mentally could not handle it, struggling to get through. By the time finals rolled around, my mind was fucked. I did not wish to study, I could not. Consumed with so much pain. Corona was a much needed break and a time to get all my frustration out. House brought me comfort. I still walk with a cane two years later, an intellectual with a curiosity for philosophical puzzles, a nihilist major cynic and sceptical of everything. Seeking “myself” on the big screen, it helps me introspect in real time. It is not a perfect match but it provides perspective.   

His obsession with puzzles is not a hoax but a goal. The intellectual exercise is what brings him solace in his life. The ordeal of the poking to the beyond is intriguing. House is religiously agnostic but finds the mystery soothing. It is the complexity of the quest that inspires his journey.  He is constantly ridiculed for toying with patients and ensuring he is correct. He goes to great lengths to prove his theory. His brilliance is unmatched only by his stubbornness. 

There is a limit to how much this should go. After House is shot at the end of Season 2, the procedure conducted by Cuddy tapping his brain bringing back his legs is perceived as cruel. He is able to run eight miles but he is irate how they can play with his mind. For him, his mind is everything. The pain is grave but his puzzle seeking behaviour pushes him forward. His drive for problem solving is amazing.   

I am also a problem solver. Someone who used to be more spiritually inclined is more concerned with the intellectual consequence. Though my transition to philosophy preceded the injury, the obsession manifested subsequently. Over time, the intellectual pursuit morphed into a treatment of its own. Doctors couldn’t pinpoint my issue, so I preoccupied my mind with abstractions to steer clear of the painful resonation. It was an escape from reality. A cycle of distracted thought. 

The nights left awake were concentrated on retaining my sanity. Unable to sleep tossing and turning from the pain, research was my salvation. The endless cycle of re-evaluation and depth analysis aided in the courageous journey. The philosophical quest is a puzzle of its own, wrapped in skeptical ribbons. Yet, its own serenity escape from the torturous pain aching my body. Without the ability to exercise freely and escape easily, my mind became my top priority. If I am stuck in an intellectual loop I won’t feel pain. It is a productive distraction that has helped me grow painlessly for the past years. It’s like leaving the ballgame on in the background as you do the dishes. I could go about my life but then turn to my thoughts and distract myself away from the dreadful reality. 

The tranquility in the majestic flow of abstract possibilities bewildered my sanity and bolstered an awe for living. The wonder of the world that connects science and value. Debating the human psyche and pondering the rationale behind human decision making. It may sound futile but for me it was life itself. Unlike House, my hobby isn’t concretely helping anyone. It is not solving a problem, it is coping with one. I did end up writing essays composing a good doc folder for them and the recently started a blog but even so it does match the puzzle solving life saving tactics of house. It does not have to. My intellectual hobby is not a game, its survival. The exercise is daunting but serene. The wondrous mystery of life’s philosophical genus compels attention. 

For House, his puzzles are periodic. It is only moments concentrating on the case or when he even has a case that the diagnostic puzzle emerges. Due to this episodic difference, he fuels the rest of his day with transforming his life into puzzles. His coworkers and friends become a game to him. His toying is part of the game, trying to divulge something deeper. Poking around people's personal lives lands him in hot water and he bears the consequences. Though in the end people write it off as House being House not only does it not make it okay it also pushes many away. Closer bonds are distanced by his snooping. For me, the philosophical distraction is an ongoing occurrence. Since it is merely abstract, multiple projects may arise at once and divided up in the day. I can began to ponder whenever without external stimuli stimulating it. My biggest consequence is lack of sleep being so caught up in the puzzle and ignoring people by being in my head. Though there may be an arrogant measure when discussing or debating such topics turning my pursuit into a hierarchical matchup where I am correct. For the most part (personal bias), my ruptured bonds are a result of self-isolation not ridicule or teasing. There are consequences but personally I am able to distinguish my intellectualised distraction as a cyclical hobby that does not leave my head.  

House and I see puzzles differently. He is the scientist and I the philosopher. He attempts to understand the complexity with the variables presented. His experimentation is about understanding what is already there, he just needs to divulge the true intent. I on the other hand, create the scenario. The variables are fictionalised in my head, artificially constructed and produced by my creativity. I turn the idea into a newly formed concept. Mine is the cheftza, his is the gavra. Our intellectualism for puzzle solving is similar but our methods differ. He wishes to make sense of the universe, I wish to produce new meaning. 

In Jewish jargon, we both are commentators I fit the biblical model and him the talmudic. He is a tosafist attempting to reconcile the competing texts into uniform solution. His dialectical analysis is to assume a primal diagnosis. How do each of these symptoms fit with one another. His analytic discovery produces a sole diagnosis. I am a biblical commentator deducing the text to envisage a sermonic influence. My peshat interpretation examines my curiosity. How can I mesh these two concepts. My creative pulse introduces newly formed ideas. The goal is not discovery but creation. My deduction is to cultivate a theory and then solve my own realised puzzle.     

Yet, in my own case my intellectualism has had its own misgivings. Its own faults. My intellectualism salvages my pain but also furthers my mental state by clinging to the unknown of my pain. I rationalise my life in a cynical nihilistic way. Cultivating a grim livelihood. The ultimate challenge to my intellectual pursuit of comprehension is the only thing that stands beyond. My pain and its perpetuity is beyond my control, it is incredibly haunting. My dire situation is mentally unstable by virtue of my imperfect cognition. The intellectualisation can only go so far. Still, the intellectual journey is awe-filled. The telos inspires me to continue to discover. Perception of the world perpetually evolves simultaneously with the distraction of pain. It is imperfect but its productive. It helps me grow when my pain tries to slow me down. It is not a daze but an uplifting experience.