Aristotle said, "He who is unable to live in society, or has no need because he is sufficient for himself, must be either a beast or a god." Focusing on one who considers him or herself sufficient, at first glance I don't see much difference between a beast or a god as it applies to all individuals who share this empirical existence. Any one who sees him or her self as a god cannot help but to behave as a beast; and any one who purposefully desires others to perceive him or her as beastly cannot help but to lust after supernatural powers. Looking more closely, a beast is coarse, crude, and filthy, and a god is a being of the highest quality, character, and importance. So if one self-identifies as a god they will (by definition) treat others as inferior beings, and if these others do not see that individual as a god they will (rightly) perceive that behavior as coarse and crude. And if one self-identifies as a beast they will revel in the glory of their filth, and others will perceive them as delusionally self-important. The reality is that no one individual is any more (or less) necessary than any other one individual. Each one of us is equally essential. I have said this before.

This week I have considered Aristotle's observation in the context of daily human interaction. For example, yesterday I was downtown when I saw a (human individual) driver (whose car was behind another car at a red stop light) impatiently veer into the left oncoming-traffic lane to make a right turn on the red light. Fortunately there was no oncoming traffic and the lone pedestrian - (me) - anticipating his idiocy, pulled back from the crosswalk and waited. And though a right turn on red is legal, I doubt it gives one permission to behave in this manner. This individual then chose to utilize the center (yellow-striped) turn lane as a passing lane to further his agenda. So - did this individual consider himself a god of his vehicle and lord of all golden pathways he graced with his rusted-out, puke-green presence? Or did he see himself as a beast of the byways bullying his way past lesser beings? (Again I ask) does it matter? The outcome is the same.

Additionally, can an individual behave as a beastly god (or a godly beast as the case may be) in one circumstance and yet be interactively amenable and adaptable in other circumstance? I have read that some individuals feel more powerful and less human behind the wheel of a car as the machine becomes an extension of their mind and body. I believe a position of power (such as workplace management or political office) can also dehumanize otherwise human individuals. So yes, I believe it possible that circumstance can encourage (or perhaps even dictate) behavior and self-identification.

I also believe we can substitute 'they' for 'he' in Aristotle's observation and apply it to specific groups that may self-identify as godly or beastly; (or both). I believe that (as with individuals and daily vagaries) groups must be interactively amenable and adaptable to the capricious winds of societal evolution. (Though this is important, this week's thought was not intended to become a finger-pointing diatribe on Us and Them; so I will move on.)

What originally struck a chord as I digested Aristotle's observation was the implied need. It appears that for the sake of decorum (and possibly one's sanity) we do need society and (optimally) daily human interaction. A very strong argument could be made (and has been by many, many varied thinkers) that this is our purpose. Even within the context of various spiritual, social, cultural, political, and individual beliefs, the shared goodness (or at least the ordinary decency) of human interaction is a common thread. There are periods of circumstance when I do not see this. There are oppressive layers of confusion and uncertainty that on occasion encourage a melancholy solitude. Yet when I submit to and then emerge from this loneliness, to experience even the simplest of cursory social interaction, I feel less constrained. And I realize that my (self-chosen) solitude is not only (by definition) selfish, it is also injurious in that it severs interactive ties that then may take an inordinate effort to rebuild.

I have also realized that any gains made by attempts to sever unpleasant relationships that are unavoidable, are likely short term gains. And successfully avoiding unpleasant relationships simply because they are unpleasant may not always be in one's best interest. So this need for comfortable, respectful human interaction extends to those individuals (or groups) that may (at least initially) create or include discomfort, condescension, and/or disrespect. This is not to say that one must always (when able to choose) subject oneself to unpleasantness over pleasantness, but one should consider the potential benefits of acquiring a taste for unpalatable affiliations. We may not like broccoli, but in moderation it is good for us.

So am I arguing that one's perceived purpose is driven by need? Like a jitter-jiving junkie (a phrase borrowed from Stephen King) is my sanity addicted to human interaction? When lonely, am I merely jonesing  for a fix of friendliness? Maybe...

But if so -- So What? I believe the alternative to be self-destructive. I believe this need translated as purpose to be a healthy dependence that can and should grow into interdependence.

If I develop and nurture the habit of solitude -- setting myself apart, as if I were a god -- then my delusion of self-sufficiency may transform itself into a monstrous reality of being 'unable to live in society.' As a human individual with a vested interest in this empirical plane of existence, I must actively acknowledge this craving for mutually beneficial human interaction. I believe to do otherwise (as a god or as a beast) exposes vulnerabilities, hinders progress, and shrivels humanity. Occasional, contemplative solitude has its place; but not at the expense of synergistic growth, nor for the sake of godlike delusions and beastly behaviors.