Aufgrund gröberen Selbstverschuldens hat es (zu) lange gedauert, bis ich sie nun endlich in den Händen halten konnte: meine Dissertation, die ich Ende November 2022 an der Universität Zürich eingereicht habe. Neben einer eher teuren Printfassung (das Buch wurde doch umfangreicher…) gibt es auch kostenfreie PDF- und ePUB-Versionen.
Viel Spass bei der Lektüre, und bei Fragen und Rückmeldungen bin ich selbstverständlich ganz Ohr.
The great wildfires of 1988 in Yellowstone National Park destroyed over one third of the park after it had been long overdue for a large fire. As a result of the lessons learned, fire management has changed dramatically since then: Natural fires are usually only monitored since they are considered helpful in reducing dead underwood and therefore large-scale fires. People realized that Yellowstone NP has the ability to self-regulate and that the park even gains strength from natural wild fires sporadically occurring.
The analogy to nature
A few species of trees have adapted themselves perfectly to bush fires. In particular conifer trees can withstand small fires by growing deep roots and thickening their trunks over time. Unlike faster growing bushes and trees, conifers consume a lot of energy and time before they outpace their «competitors» eventually. Some conifers, such as Sequoias in Northern California, grow as high as one hundred and twenty meters and get as old as thousands of years (see the picture at the start).
Once a bush fire hits the forest, conifers will endure longer periods of suffering than other plants. Having taken a longer path to growth – the «roundabout approach» – has made them firm and lasting. And they won’t tap into their reserves until they are forced to do so due to suffering. Coniferous trees are the epitome of «anti-fragility» – growing stronger because of bad events.
Life is suffering, and even demands setbacks
Some things in life will not always work out as planned – sometimes for the time being, often for good. This is part of «being». In fact, the subject of suffering is not only a central motif of all major religions and thus cultural inheritance, but it also embodies a deep understanding of life beyond religious beliefs.
There will be days when we have to withstand tragedy and loss, just like conifers do when strong winds and even lightning strike them. As a matter of fact, there is some truth in Friedrich Nietzsche’s quote «What does not kill me makes me stronger». Nature illustrates that anti-fragility is a reality; and since we are all part of nature, that insight, while it may not give us a deeper meaning of life, can at least supply us with more strength to overcome the hardship of life and to flourish again eventually. The conifers standing upright in a manner that defies any catastrophe may serve as an example of how one can achieve that.
The Roman emperor Marcus Aurelius (121-180 AD) belongs to those few people who have left a unique treasure of wisdom for their posterity. He was one of the great Stoic philosophers and humanists, and currently my favorite “tutor” – day and night. If you’re interested in the ideas of Stoicism, I can highly recommend the insightful and instructive mailings of the “Daily Stoic“.
Now, even though Marcus Aurelius’ last words, at least in his personal diary “Meditationes”, deal with the theme of death, they are first and foremost an ode to the beauty of life really.
Here you go:
You’ve lived as a citizen in a great city. Five years or a hundred – what’s the difference? The laws make no distinction. And to be sent away from it, not by a tyrant or a dishonest judge, but by Nature, who first invited you in – why is that so terrible? Like the impresario ringing down the curtain on an actor: “But I’ve only gotten through three acts ...!” Yes. This will be a drama in three acts, the length fixed by the power that directed your creation, and now directs your dissolution. Neither was yours to determine. So make your exit with grace — the same grace shown to you.
*sigh*