Not Even The Centre Of My Own Universe

Last week the writer David Foster Wallace killed himself.

As part of a tribute to him the Guardian published a speech he gave to a graduating class at Kenyon College, Ohio. After talking about the need to look outside of yourself and pay attention to others, the conclusion is poignant.

I know that this stuff probably doesn't sound fun and breezy or grandly inspirational. What it is, so far as I can see, is the truth with a whole lot of rhetorical bullshit pared away. Obviously, you can think of it whatever you wish. But please don't dismiss it as some finger-wagging Dr Laura sermon. None of this is about morality, or religion, or dogma, or big fancy questions of life after death. The capital-T Truth is about life before death. It is about making it to 30, or maybe 50, without wanting to shoot yourself in the head.

He suffered from depression and did not make it to fifty.

I am fascinated by the theme of his talk – the idea of stepping outside of your own viewpoint, so that you are no longer the centre of the universe. I had my own moment of insight some years ago, in the most mundane of circumstances. I was shopping in Sainsbury’s, and instead of focusing on the bread I wanted, for an instant, I looked at all the other people buying. I then thought of how many loaves this one store would sell in a day, then how many would be sold by Sainsbury’s as a whole and then by all the supermarkets in the country. I then thought of all the shipping and organisation needed to get the right quantitys of this one product to where it was needed. I marvelled at the complexity of it all, the number of people involved and the information processing. Yet it was something I took for granted. For me it was a simple transaction – just me buying one loaf of bread.

I then realised that no action was 'just me'. Everything rested on a huge platform created by thousands, millions of others - not only that, there were thousands, millions of others wanting to do the same thing at the same time and that above everything else there was a fascinating network of activity.

Nevertheless most of the time I see the world as if I am the centre of the universe. However running plays about with this outlook. It might not stop me seeing myself as the centre but it does mess it up in pleasing ways.

On the one hand there is no other pastime that is so self-absorbed. We all meticulously log our runs, monitor progress, examine how our body feels and whether twinges are serious or trivial, and worry about nutrition. (The number of runners who don’t over think in this way must be very small). On the other hand the act of running empties you out. You loose large lumps of you normal concerns as physical activity takes over and your personality is stripped down to the act of moving. Unlike most other sports there is not a high level of skill, requiring constant concentration. You can allow you mind free play to wander about and in itself this provides a pleasant background burbling. However some of the time you think about nothing at all and these are the treasured moments because you have lost yourself.

You have lost the 'you' at the centre of the world trying to negotiate your way through a network of tasks and responsibilities. Running has given you a few moments of freedom from that burden and opened the world up so that you can see it slightly differently. However it does not take you to that next level of understanding others and seeing things from their point of view. When you meet dog owners with long extendable leads, who look on indulgently as their dogs runs at your ankles, or when you meet a group, taking up the whole path, who do not give you any passing room, you just want to shout ‘Get out of the way! Runner coming through’. At such moment you are only thinking of your own needs.