Snow blankets tree branches, and bird nests, cobblestone streets, and houses. There’s a chill in the air that nips the nose, and at night, when the cold winds blow, the world feels small. Thick gray clouds hide stars but the sky remains, a constant reminder of our place in the universe. There are rare moments when the cold subsides, the wind dies down, and we look up, warmed from the inside. To some, these moments are a time to reflect, to appreciate. To others, they are a rare glimpse of something beyond themselves, more than a reflection in the mirror.
Many novels concern this topic, but one stands out from the rest. Osamu Dazai’s No Longer Human provides a startling glimpse into the realm of loneliness and disassociation, unlike anything I’ve read before. Dazai has crossed the fine line between awareness and despair. When the world stops, he doesn’t marvel at its beauty, but instead, reaches the depths of his despair. It’s strange that the closest we can come to experiencing this feeling firsthand is through the autobiography of a man who was never truly here.
In the case of Osamu Dazai, it seems, counterintuitively, that the better someone understands himself, the worse his situation becomes. This discrepancy is rooted in the idea that self-awareness helps us understand all things about ourselves, good and bad. Is he who conquers the world but lives with guilt really any better off than the wolf living in the forest, or the fish in the ocean, whose life is not measured by such constructs? It’s not uncommon to believe that self-reflection and awareness are the keys to happiness. But, looking more closely, it seems the opposite may be true.
Self-reflection is not only representative of a person's understanding of himself, but his understanding and appreciation of the world around him. For many, this is difficult, to view oneself from another lens, and often, it’s the difference between a content existence and the early onset of existential dread.
Do we solve our problems by questioning the world around us, or does this only make it worse? It takes courage to reflect, and that means coming to the realization that the universe doesn’t revolve around the beholder. We exist in the universe as atoms exist in us, individual components of an incomprehensibly larger machine, working to support something that is already self-sufficient. It’s our job to determine whether it’s more important to stand by the cosmic window, and watch our reflection, or to look past the glass and into the darkness beyond, accepting the possibility that what lies ahead may challenge everything we know about what lies within.
