I’ve never really had a concrete belief system with which to view the world.   My parents are agnostic, and they’ve always tried to expose me to a variety of religious ideas without emphasizing a particular ideology.   Their non-prescriptive approach has forced me to scrutinize the teachings of various religions and choose what works for me.  

I’m not suggesting that most people who are born into religious families uncritically adopt the religion of their parents.   However, I do think it’s easy for someone to continue following a set of principles instilled in childhood and constantly reinforced by their parents and other fellow believers.  

My college education: both inside and outside the classroom: has forced me to contemplate the purpose of existence.   As I’ve struggled to reconcile the many conflicting philosophies I’ve been exposed to over the years, I sometimes find myself wishing for the kind of concrete guiding principles that faith in a religion can provide.  

On some level everyone wants to know that they are taking advantage of the precious, miraculous gift of life.   Without a belief system that affirms the things you deem worthwhile, it’s easy to become frustrated and dissatisfied with the endless minutia: paying bills, checking e-mail or doing laundry: that eats up so much of our time on Earth.  

Last spring I finally began to develop a coherent life philosophy of my own.   The inspiration didn’t come in a religious text or house of worship, but in an assigned text for my English class.

In the conclusion of his work The Renaissance: Studies in Art and Poetry, the obscure literary critic/philosopher Walter Pater outlines his view on the meaning of life.   Don’t worry, I won’t torture you with a sample of his verbose, convoluted prose.   His argument is essentially that life is composed of a series of perpetually fleeting moments.   There is beauty to be found in each one of these moments but you must be able to recognize it.  

According to Pater, the purpose of existence is to experience as many of these beautiful moments as possible.   Supposedly, if you can resist the blinders of familiarity, you can experience beautiful moments in even the most mundane circumstances. Everyone can find beauty in a sunset, but the ultimate goal is to be able experience beauty even when you’re doing something as distasteful as slaving away in the library.  

Pater’s ideas speak to me in a way that no religious dogma ever has.   Nobody knows for sure what happens when we die, and I simply can’t justify basing my actions on a system of reward and punishment that takes effect in the afterlife.   I want to experience life’s myriad sensations and phenomena to the greatest possible extent.   It seems to me that searching for beauty in every moment is the most worthwhile use of our incredibly brief, precious lives.

To that end, each week I’m going to describe a moment and explain why it’s beautiful.   We privileged Whitties take a lot for granted.   All of us could benefit from taking a little time to reflect on the wonders that surround us.