I desire to not desire what I desire. I want to not want what I want.
It’s a paradox wrapped in an oxymoron. A contradiction contradicting itself.
This aspiration is particularly difficult when you’re confronted, all day long, with efforts to make you desire something: an email from your favorite bicycle goods retailer, offering a discount for purchasing an item that you don’t really need, but would be cool to have; a text message from a friend inviting you to an event that would probably be fun; a coupon in the mail for a home service you’ve been putting off because you can live without it, even though it would be nicer to have it done.
I didn’t know I wanted it until I was persuaded that I did. I didn’t have the active desire until it was activated by an outside influence.
So, is it really my own desire? Or am I more like a passive host for the desire virus I’m infected by?
One of the Compatibilist responses to the “Problem of Free Will” is “Deep Self-Compatibilism.” Essentially, the Compatibilist view is that we exercise what amounts to free will when we make choices that are motivated by our own desires (as opposed to compelled by outside forces beyond our control.) The question raised by Deep Self-Compatibilism is “Are our desires really our own?” Or “Do we really desire our desires.”
When you’re watching a football game and an ad appears for Dominos Pizza and before you know it, you’re ordering a large Double Cheese Crust Stuffed Meat-Lovers just like the one you saw onscreen, it’s not obvious that it’s really what you want. Or at least want to want.
According to the Buddha’s Four Noble Truths, we eliminate suffering in our lives by eliminating desire. Of course, we need to desire to do so, which brings us back to that initial paradox all over again.
Makes me want just to be done with it.
