Destiny and Self-Becoming
As is well known, the motto of Nietzsche’s popular book “Ecce Homo” (1888) is “how one becomes what one is”. The whole text is indeed to be understood as Nietzsche’s re-analysing his own philosophical path in the light of his self-becoming. As a Nietzsche scholar, such a thought has had a tremendous impact on my entire life. Do I choose to become what I am?
Borrowed from the classical thinking — which Nietzsche, as a philologist, was very familiar with — is another key concept to go hand in hand with that of self-becoming, namely, the idea of “amor fati” (occurring not only in “Ecce Homo”, but in other writings as well, such as “The Gay Science”). In latin, it means love for fate, or destiny, and represents, to Nietzsche, the highest form of love a man can reach: what could be more noble than giving up one’s own ego entirely, to the point of not only accepting but even loving one’s own fate? If you connect the dots, you’ll see that becoming what I am can occur only if I love my fate, if I let my life be and love it’s being. But this is not enough yet…
As a mental experiment representing the worst case scenario where the concept of “amor fati” should be applied, the idea of the “eternal return” ought to be postulated. Nietzsche had that intuition in August 1881, while hiking along the lake of Silvaplana, in Engadin (Switzerland):
“The greatest weight.— What, if some day or night a demon were to steal after you into your loneliest loneliness and say to you: ‘This life as you now live it and have lived it, you will have to live once more and innumerable times more; and there will be nothing new in it, but every pain and every joy and every thought and sigh and everything unutterably small or great in your life will have to return to you, all in the same succession and sequence — even this spider and this moonlight between the trees, and even this moment and I myself. The eternal hourglass of existence is turned upside down again and again, and you with it, speck of dust!’
Would you not throw yourself down and gnash your teeth and curse the demon who spoke thus?… Or how well disposed would you have to become to yourself and to life to crave nothing more fervently than this ultimate eternal confirmation and seal?” (“The Gay Science”, §341, trans. by Walter Kaufmann).
Nietzsche’s “greatest weight [das Schwergewicht]” represents the possibility of the same life occurring over and over again, for ever and aver, and having already occurred over and over again, since forever. From an ethical point of view, two consequences are to be noted: 1) I’m not really responsible for my decisions or deeds, as whatever I choose, I’ve already chosen innumerable times; 2) however, when I choose, I have to ask myself: do I want this choice to be repeated innumerable times in the future? As a matter of fact, the seeming lightness of the former consequence is devoured and shattered by the terrifying heaviness of latter. Again, amor fati seems to be the key to solve the riddle: if I love and embrace my fate, the heaviness of the hypothesis of the eternal return won’t curse me any longer.
Another classical image borrowed by Nietzsche represents this idea very well: “dancing in chains”. As Nietzsche explains, the Greek artists and poets “impose upon themselves a manifold constraint by means of the earlier poets”, and then “invent in addition a new constraint, to impose it upon themselves and cheerfully to overcome it, so that constraint and victory are perceived and admired” (“Human, All too Human, II”, “The Wanderer and His Shadow”, § 140). A Nietzschean life can be thought of as a never-ending “dancing in chains”, a continuous, yet joyful, overcoming of pre-existing and self-imposed constraints towards the realisation of something that comes across as light and serene.
My Philosophical Path
When I started reading Nietzsche, I was 18. I hadn’t begun my Philosophy BA yet, and I only had two passions in my life: music and fitness. The main reason why I chose to study Philosophy was because it seemed the only way to merge both my creative and my disciplined sides together, and — hopefully — disclose a new approach to my existence. I retrospectively acknowledge I was being far too optimistic back then, as I was expecting to achieve something without first changing my mindset.
While my passion for music stayed pretty much the same (I was playing the drums in a band, and attending all the gigs I could), my passion for fitness evolved: helped by my boyfriend at that time (to whom I’m proudly married now, and who had already been lifting for a few years), I started lifting weights twice a week, I increased my cardio routine, started practicing yoga on a regular basis, and joined a belly dance class. This latter was probably the greatest discovery back then: I could finally unite music, fitness and the search for spirituality that the study of Philosophy wasn’t satisfying yet. Plus, it really helped me overcome my shyness… :/
I did my BA thesis on the symbology of light in Nietzsche’s “Thus Spoke Zarathustra”, and decided to continue working on the same text in my MA. This time around, however, I would look at it from a different angle, namely, through a psychological lens. That’s when I discovered C. G. Jung and my life changed. I did both my MA and PhD dissertations on Jung’s (mis)understanding of Nietzsche’s philosophy, and, I have to say, the exploration of analytical psychology fulfilled my search for spirituality and provided me with unexpected tools. I was finally starting to give sense and meaning to my life.
To finish my Phd, I had to move to London (UK). Possibly because I had just discovered Jung’s concept of “synchronicity”, but it didn’t seem like a coincidence at all that the world-leading historical research on Jung was being conducted in the city where my boyfriend had just moved! I was still unsure about my future, in fact I had just spent some time in Germany and was planning to move there for good. As that opportunity was offered to me, it seemed like a sign from my fate: whether I wanted or not, I knew I had to take the chance and move to London, that was just meant to be.
Here is where I’ve really become what I am.
What to do with “the greatest weight”? Just lift it!
In London I felt like I could finally let my full essence express itself undisturbed. I found the courage to do many things: after 10 years of pescatarianism, I finally gave up animal products and went vegan; I married my soulmate; started practicing meditation on a regular basis and taking online courses on Hinduism; found a solid group of scholars who are more than just colleagues to me. Most importantly, however, I joined a gym and started working out everyday, lifting heavier and heavier. Slowly and without even realising, I started inspiring more and more people. We live far from our families, we don’t own our flat (and maybe never will), I have to work part time in a coffee shop to pay my bills, but I embrace it all, as my “chains”, necessary for the “dance” of my life to be light and joyful.
If there’s something I’m really grateful to Nietzsche for, it’s for teaching me the profound, yet often forgotten, interconnection between philosophy and practical life: through philosophical introspection, I shape up my life, and through my everyday life, I pose and then answer my deepest questions. Philosophy is not meant to be constrained in scholarly books; nor is life meant to be lived superficially.
The only downside of my self-becoming is that I had to quit my band. I’m still attending as many gigs as I can, and, sometimes (rarely), I compose with Garage Band. I listen to my favourite bands everyday though (at the gym, on the tube, at home) and sing like a crazy in the shower and when cooking. I was meant to become a philosopher, I was meant to inspire fitness enthusiasts, but I now realise that I was never meant to become a musician.
Fair enough, I still love my fate more than ever!
