Sisyphus pushes a rock up a hill forever, knowing it will always roll back down. A regular workman does the same thing inside a job: he keeps pushing too, except he hopes it will eventually pay off, a promotion, a house, a better life. This hope is often just a comfortable lie. Sisyphus, who expects nothing and still keeps going, is actually more honest than we are. The real question is not whether the effort is worth it, but whether we can stop lying to ourselves about it.
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Acharya Prashant: I know what I'm doing, and in that sense, I'm not your slave. I'm not your slave. I know my condition is absurd. I know nothing will come out of it, yet I'm doing it. Most people will not have the guts to admit that their life, their struggle, their toil, their passion amounts to anything. What would they rather do? Sisyphus knows his condition. If this myth is tragic, and that is because its hero is conscious. There is no tragedy for the sleeping one. The workman of today works every day in his life at the same tasks, and his fate is no less absurd. He's comparing Sisyphus to the workman of today. But the usual person lives in the lie called hope. Tomorrow would be better.
You have not fooled me. I know what I'm doing, and in that sense, I'm not your slave. I'm not your slave. I know my condition is absurd. I know nothing will come out of it, yet I'm doing it. And in that sense, and in that moment when he has seen the result of his toil return to the bottom, he's said to be the strongest, even superior to the gods.
I'll reread for you. That hour, which hour is being referred to? When he has taken the stone to the summit and has seen the stone roll back to point zero. He has done everything. The sun is probably setting. He's as exhausted as a man could be, right? And just at the pinnacle, just at the moment and point of the accomplishment, he watches his effort totally wasted away. That hour is being referred to. That hour is like a breathing space which returns as surely as his suffering. That is the hour of consciousness.
