Does contentment presuppose submission or resistance?

The notion of contentment, the pre-requisite of a “good life,” resurfaces across texts by Epicurus, Tagore, Fraire, Plato, Confucius, and the like; yet, each philosopher paints a distinct route to contentment. The authors attempt to make meaning of the world in their texts, fettered by a plague of temptation, evil, and misguidance in the world. And, through this plague of misery and yearning desperation for tranquility and contentment, recurring threads of submission and resistance in the works appear: truths from each philosopher integrate scopes of submission and resistance in different proportions. These truths are the subject of my interest, coloring contentment across contexts (education, familial relationships, pleasurable sensations) in hues of the philosophers’ wisdom. The following marks my attempt at understanding these truths by anchoring the text with my worldview, abstracting models of contentment, and then applying the configured models to different philosophies.

Like the faintest speck of white in the dusk sky, I view my existence in this world as a transitory speck — regarding my microscopic being in the astronomical world and the insignificant scope of my lifespan in the habitable window of the earth — and thus a blessing beyond my comprehension. Even our existence on the organismal level is the manifestation of a miracle and thus proof of a greater being: our body’s relative state of constancy, the effortless delivery of oxygen through our network of blood-carrying canals, the production of disease-countering cells that identify and inhibit the fate of bacteria and viruses, the branching airways that harbor our expulsion of carbon dioxide and the invitation of oxygen in every fiber of our being, the transport of materials that accounts for the essential removal of waste, the outward-facing sheath of flesh that guards us from pain and pressure, the mechanical digestion that enables our autonomous regulation of dietary contents, the coordinated contraction and expansion of muscles that underlie our movement, and the electrical impulses across synapses that facilitate the very movement of my fingers across this keyboard. The listed synchrony of my body’s facets is no mere coincidence; I view it as direct evidence of divinity or the existence of a higher power. While this belief may counter evolution-centric thinking and conflict with the ‘design argument’ (resisting the conclusion that a creator underlies every seen object), I question the basis of these thought experiments: is it rational to conclude the presence of a table without a builder? Or a tree without a seed? Or clay without a potter? If not, how might one conclude that humans, manifestations of clay and miraculous synchrony, are products of whimsical natural processes without a defined creator? Or, how might we explain the alignment of long-sought scientific explanations for complex phenomena like birth with millennia-old religious scriptures? Creationism and design thinking are thus important tools/means of arriving at a truth beyond the confined scope of our observations. Alongside the grandness of the universe as an epitome of our relative insignificance, the miracles each being represents are my rationale for submission to a deity. I believe ultimate contentment stems from arriving at a secure truth derived empirically from the natural world, rationally from our lived experiences, and morally from our intuitions. The notion of a higher power sows each of the former criteria into a greater truth; understanding that everything seen is a manifestation of the unseen is a basis for empirical, rational, and moral grounding in a deity. It is through this submission to a higher power that conviction in a truth beyond our imagination and whims materializes; we are no longer beings functioning on accord of a loose philosophy bound to feelings and a truth framed solely by our observations but by a Creator and faith with a standing legacy and thus a transparent understanding of purpose, drawing us closer to contentment. My understanding of contentment is two-fold: 1) submission to God and 2) resisting worldly corruption. The latter introduces the complexity of contentment and the integration of submission with resistance: upon submission to God, resisting worldly corruption naturally follows. This resistance stems from the inherent interest to pursue actions that invite God’s pleasure, often synonymous with straying from worldly pleasures void of blessings and thus not aligned with God’s pleasure. Such resistance embodies the numbing influence of material grievances disguised as pleasures. It saves us from the increased threshold of happiness we’re subjected to if we fail to safeguard ourselves from intoxicants and other deceptions of gratification. Thus, submission becomes necessary for complete resistance to evil temptations that distract us from contentment, fulfilling the two-fold prophecy. Regardless, some moments appear to be at odds with our constructed life philosophy, prompting us to choose between supposed liberty and submission to God’s decree in pursuits of contentment. I pursued rowing in high school and was often surrounded by teammates who wore one distinct athletic brand and none else. My mere exposure to this phenomenon resulted in an inner pressure to completely refashion my wardrobe with a second pull toward leaving a team that fostered respect and dignity based on material associations instead of performance and effort. However, I knew none of these positions represented my rational interest; I wanted to continue pursuing rowing while retaining my values of modesty and practicality. Why succumb to peer pressure if I didn’t need new athletic apparel? And likewise, why quit a sport because of the variable pressures ubiquitous to every environment? Upon assessing the root causes of my dilemma and rationalizing the implications of both voices, I realized I wanted neither and thus continued competing, with full conviction, without branded clothing. As in this example, I first thought succumbing to the pressures of my environment would be liberating — wearing shorter, branded clothing to appeal to the team’s uniformity — and thus bring me closer to contentment. I also considered total submission as a means to contentment, which appeared to escape the materialism-centric environment. When grappling with both possibilities, I realized the two were not in conflict; using submission as a guide for resistance, I sought the middle ground by pursuing rowing while retaining my modesty. From this experience and others, I have found that contentment is reached through submission, ultimately enabling a degree of liberty while adhering to religious practices.

While I’ve detailed my worldview, two broad models of personal truth and contentment appear frequently across philosophical texts: “bottom-up” and “top-down.” The bottom-up model represents exposure before voluntary resistance: meddling with societal affairs and mending a life of contentment by minimally engaging with short-term pleasure to resist long-term grievances. The top-down model, similar to my mentioned approach, represents submission before resistance: first arriving at the conclusion that a higher power exists and then using that understanding to act by God’s pleasure. The primary differentiator between the models is the basis of truth: the former model, the supposed bottom-up model, is entirely dependent on the discipline of the executor. A person with this framework of truth and contentment can choose not to comply with their abstinence from short-term pleasures since no higher accountability or firm grounding in a greater truth holds. Thus, this model is more fallible to failing to attain the intended contentment. The latter model, however, is not subject to the executor’s whims but the executor’s knowledge of grounding their worldview in greater power and often an associated notion of reward for complying with activities pleasurable to this power, mimicking the abstinence practiced in the bottom-up model.

Not every philosopher explicitly speaks about contentment in the context of a “good life” or mentions submission in the context of a deity. Instead, the essence of contentment is sown across education, attempts at pleasure, filial piety, and other broad topics that ultimately intersect with the mentioned models of personal truth, and the philosophers imbue resistance and submission in their perspectives.

Plato’s Allegory of the Cave reinforces resisting ignorance in search of the truth in the context of education. Plato negates the possibility of one’s worldview resting on the foundation of fragmented perceptions and, thus, the possibility of a single perception being an uplifting force for one’s peers. He implies that passively accepting every notion at face value without contemplating its origins or realizing potential propaganda aimed at swaying viewers in favor of a false view subjects our intellect to decline. Thus, he suggests we must question the origins of our knowledge and, therefore, have a grasp of the biases we are inheriting when we passively embrace knowledge. So, while knowledge is a beautiful force that can unite, empower, and guide, it can likewise be a destructive force that undermines, erodes, and corrupts a people due to a lack of interest in examining the varied angles of an issue and arriving at a conclusion grounded in personal values and empirical evidence. Plato’s philosophy most closely resembles the bottom-up model, proposing the resistance of angled knowledge in favor of a broader, sought-out truth. Plato demonstrates the top-down approach in his works by mentioning an ultimate reality. By recognizing this ultimate truth, Plato is essentially submitting to a sole understanding of the world, similar to submitting to a higher power. Plato thus integrates scopes of resistance and submission into a single perspective, proving that both approaches can be used in tandem.

In Confucian Analects, the principles of filial piety explicitly mention submission to parents, insinuating benevolence through filial piety. This submission to parents is the impetus of virtue and principle, ensuring a person’s superiority of morality and being through appropriate conduct with their parents. Goodness and virtue also appear to be a means to submission instead of the end. This introduces a positive feedback loop, suggesting the reinforcement of goodness with the application of goodness — i.e., virtuous conduct with parents enables further filial piety. Thus, Confucius appears to have a top-down approach to contentment and truth, suggesting that submission to parents instills purity and virtue.

In The Art of Happiness, Epicurus notes that ultimate pleasure is derived from resisting the natural temptation to fulfill desires and thus settling into a static state of gratitude with minimal exposure to heightened joy. Due to the joy found in simplistic experiences, peak pleasure is experienced through this lack of exposure. Thus, Epicurus proposes a bottom-up approach to contentment, suggesting that pleasure is rooted in abstinence.

Across the philosophers’ texts and dismantled frameworks, submission and resistance appear to be two wings to the same bird: the bird sails in the wind of temptation and pleasure, harmonizing its wings in descent, ascent, and angled flight. When one wing assumes a position superior to the other, the bird sails in one direction; when both wings level to the same position, the bird descends, and whether previously angled or level, the bird must eventually flap its wings to ascend again. Similarly, varying degrees of submission and resistance may lead to different approaches to contentment, but ultimately, the two exist in parallel.