David Foster Wallace’s 2005 Kenyon College commencement address, later published as "This Is Water: Some Thoughts on the Nature of the Religious and on Compassion by an Unfortunately Ordinary Young Man," is less a typical inspirational speech and more a philosophical challenge. Wallace doesn't offer easy answers or platitudes; instead, he forces his audience, and later his readers, to confront the fundamental difficulty of conscious living. His central argument is that the default setting of our minds – a self-centered, automatic perspective – is both pervasive and deeply limiting. True freedom, he suggests, lies in the conscious effort to override this default, to choose empathy and awareness, particularly in the mundane, often frustrating, moments of everyday life.
Wallace begins by illustrating the sheer ordinariness of our existence. He paints a vivid picture of a grocery store trip, a scenario so common it’s almost invisible. The frustration of a slow cashier, the annoyance of a crowded aisle – these are the experiences that reveal our innate self-absorption. He calls this the "default setting," an unconscious belief that we are the center of the universe, and that all other people and things are merely supporting characters or obstacles in our personal dramas. This default mode, he argues, leads to a life of constant irritation and alienation, trapping us in a cycle of petty grievances. The humor and relatability of these examples make his point all the more potent; we recognize ourselves in his descriptions, uncomfortable as it may be.
The radical nature of Wallace’s proposal lies in its demand for intentionality. He doesn't suggest escaping our lives or achieving some grand enlightenment. Rather, he advocates for a deliberate, conscious choice to see the world differently, especially in those moments when it feels most inconvenient. This means actively choosing to consider the perspectives of others, to recognize that the person in front of you in line might be struggling with unseen burdens, or that the traffic jam is not a personal affront but simply a consequence of shared human activity. This is the "water," the invisible, pervasive reality of our interconnectedness and the constant need for mindful attention. It requires a willingness to be uncomfortable, to suspend judgment, and to actively engage with the "boring" aspects of life with a renewed sense of compassion.
Wallace connects this conscious awareness to a form of spiritual or religious practice, though he carefully avoids any specific dogma. He implies that this deliberate choice, this act of seeing beyond the self, is a deeply meaningful and, in its own way, sacred undertaking. It’s about finding meaning not in grand gestures, but in the small, consistent choices we make throughout the day. The freedom he speaks of isn't the freedom to do whatever we want, but the freedom from our own egocentric programming. It's the ability to choose our response, to imbue the ordinary with significance, and to connect with others in a genuine, empathetic way. This is the challenge Wallace leaves us with: the continuous, difficult, but ultimately rewarding work of choosing what to worship, and how to live accordingly.