It is another anxious night for me, as I am waiting again for my lost feline companion to come back home. I listen to the silence outside, and I can hear it interrupted by sounds of a new rain.
I worry for my cat, but I can do nothing more than hope that he would find a shelter from tonight’s stormy weather. I know he will probably have to fight over that shelter with another cat, or maybe even a dog, and I feel sad that I am unable to help him somehow.
My restless mind does not leave me in peace. It keeps creating disturbing ideas on the unpleasant situation, one after another. Then, in this endless jumble of thoughts, one particular thought catches my attention: “The Will to Live.” Yes, I had once read these words in a text by the German thinker Albert Schweitzer.
I can remember Schweitzer’s idea only vaguely, so I decide to look it up on the internet. After a quick search I recall that I had read it in one of the short texts of the Agora website, and I go there and read it again:
The world, however, offers us the horrible drama of the Will-to-Live divided against itself.
This will is now driving my dear cat to seek refuge from the adverse weather and to search for food, just as it drives every other living being in the same search. Undoubtedly, more than one confrontation will take place tonight among the challenging life in the streets. One life against another, the will to live is divided against itself.
I decide to read the whole of Schweitzer’s text – this seems a good way to distract my mind from its worries. I make myself a cup of tea and settle into my chair, as I usually do when I get ready to read. This time, however, I decide to sit facing the door, which I have left ajar in case my lost feline companion miraculously returns.
I begin to read, but I find that I can’t really connect with the text. For a moment I wonder whether it is really relevant to what I am now experiencing. Then, in the middle of my doubts, something I read triggers a memory in my mind: A conversation I had several years ago with a friend. That conversation had prompted me to seriously re-examine my attitude towards life, both my own and that of others. And despite the long time that had passed since then, I can still hear very clearly her voice, full of disbelief, saying to me:
– I don’t believe that you don’t feel bad about eating animals. If you saw them being slaughtered, I am sure you wouldn’t eat them.
– Well, life in this world is cruel. In nature, one animal kills another in order to survive. I may love animals very much, but if I must decide between their life and mine, I will choose mine without hesitation.
I don’t remember how she responded; it was a long conversation and it would be useless attempting to reconstruct it. But I remember very clearly how she looked at me, and the expression of pity on her face, mixed with helplessness and disappointment.
I also remember myself struck by these emotions on her face. I couldn’t help wondering what was wrong with what I had said, and why she was reacting so emotionally. And although I couldn’t understand it at the time, the topic began to occupy me frequently. But today, nearly five years later, Schweitzer’s words seem to give me an explanation of her reactions:
Only in the thinking person, the Will-to-Live become conscious of another will-to-live, and wants solidarity with it.
Solidarity… The deep emotions I saw on Diana’s face undoubtedly came from her deep solidarity with every other Will-to-Live. Perhaps she felt that I was belittling her solidarity, and this reminded her of that horrible drama of the Will to Live to which she herself was also subjected. Or, more likely, she found it difficult to conceive how her friend – someone to whom she had expressed solidarity – could ignore that solidarity towards other living creatures.
In any case, she possessed something that I was lacking: a reflexive will to live, which enabled her to experience deeply what this will meant. It enabled her not just to want to live and enjoy life, but to be in solidarity with all other lives that wanted to live.
After a brief – or perhaps long – moment of self-absorption, I resumed my reading and found the following wonderful lines:
This solidarity, however, he cannot realize completely, because man is subject to the puzzling and horrible law of being forced to live at the expense of another life, and to suffer again and again the guilt of destroying and injuring life. But as an ethical being, he strives to escape this necessity whenever possible. And as somebody who is enlightened and merciful, he strives to end this contradiction of the Will-to-Live as far as he can. He thirsts to preserve his humanity, and to be able to free other existences from suffering.
Reverence for Life which comes from the Will-to-Live that has become reflective, therefore contains affirmation of life and ethics inseparably combined.
Suddenly I notice a movement, and when I raise my eyes from my computer I see a cat approaching the bowl of cat food I have left at the door. It stops, looks at me, hesitates, then starts eating from it hungrily. It isn’t my lost cat, but I recognize in it a Will-to-Live. After it finishes the food in the bowl, I serve it some more food and keep it company until it decides to continue on its way. It turns around and quickly disappears on the rooftops under the last few drops of the rain.
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The quoted text can be found on Schweitzer’s book OUT OF MY LIFE AND THOUGHT (1931). To read more visit Agora’s website:
https://philopractice.org/web/schweitzer#will-to-live