the sun is up / the sky is blue / it's beautiful, and so are you
There's quite a bit of beauty in the world around us. Today is rather warm, over 100 degrees, and part of a trend of actual warm weather. Despite July 2012 being one of the hottest months on record, Modesto has seen rather calm temperatures; the Central Valley of California is known for being warm, but we haven't truly had a hot summer since 2006. The artificiality brought about by an early school year makes the fact that only in August is it heating up and it is only in September that summer ends seems so strange.
Time is a concept I tend to say "yeah, I'm interested in exploring that...!" but I never do. There was that one instance where I actually googled it and came across the fact that Immanuel Kant wrote quite a bit on the subject. I also have a memory of a history professor rattling up my mind somewhat when he began a lecture with a fairly obvious point --only in the Judeo-Christian perspective, only in the Gregorian calendar, is today 12 August 2012. Of course, I wrote it the way many other countries write it, or to be even more international: 12.08.12. Beautiful. Logical. I also have been discussing with others the notion of when the week begins --why do most American calendars have Sunday as the first day? Etymologically speaking, one can look at the Russian days of the week and see that chetvirg (thursday) is indeed the 4th day of the week, with chet coming from chetiri, or four. My apologies for the poor transliteration; it is sloppy.
My mind has been rather sloppy lately. Though there is much beauty around me, around all of us, I still somehow feel it to be so artificial, like the time constructs briefly mentioned above. Thus, I find myself caught in a pseudo-intellectual debate about what is real and what is not, my mind blinking with excitement to discuss Rousseau and what he had to say on the subject, when I studied him a bit in 2006 under the tutleage of Jonathan Beecher, one of the most exciting and adorable academics I have ever had the privilege of encountering.
Professor Beecher --or Johnny B. as I liked to call him --is a wonderful old man, retired now, who was always bursting with enthusiasm. I'm still a bit in awe of people who can do that, simply shine with radiance at every turn. Though I had read bits and pieces of Howard Zinn before, I came to the conclusion based on reading one book that Mr Zinn must have been the same way; nothing but pure excitement and joy. I recently talked to someone who, truly, is usually considered to be very optimistic and how it really upset her that the one day she was upset everyone freaked out and couldn't understand.
Where does this optimism swell from? When I talk to others, or discuss what makes a great mind or a great person or whatever, there seems to be some sort of immovable, unshakable core. For some, it is the spirit of science and inquiry and a sense of happiness knowing we are small in such an infinite, elegant universe. There are those, too, who seem happy, contented, delighted to belong to a church (usually of some Christian denomination) and see that as a guiding light. According to one friend, there is also the happy homosexual we know in SF that is a nihilist. Nihilist. There are those, too, whom I know that seem to bristle with confusion when I ask about their spiritual/philosophical orientation, as if it is an affront or a terribly, terribly embarrassing question that is downright impolite.
Where do we stand on anything?
Life for life's sake. Live for god. To reproduce. These just seem so horribly, horribly inadequate.
But I think it best if, just for now, just for the sake of this journal, I embrace the beauty around me. When I tread water in my pool, sometimes listening to music, sometimes in silence, I feel this sense of calm by doing something physical.
I've been having this epiphany that I've been living my life completely wrong this whole time. But I'm just not sure how to break free. As I don't really have a history of physical labour, and I do have 2 UC degrees, it seems silly to just sort of take up construction or something else. Jogging seems like a wonderful habit to pick up. As much as I enjoy using my mind, there needs to be something more, something greater.
No decisions have been made yet. Part of my recent anxiety is realising just how limited I've made myself. I'm struggling to break free, to find purpose. Each day I get closer. The road ahead will take lots of hard work --and therein lies my problem, my Achilles heel, if you will --I'm lazy.
Today, however, I've got to make some sort of sacrifice. I fell in love with Marcus Aurelius and his Meditations because of the attraction and beauty of stoicism. During that period of my life, I thought about being a monk. There have been many thoughts, many interests, but few passions, but it all seems fleeting. I don't want to be Sisyphus, and perhaps this is just the laziness and fear talking, but it seems no matter what we do, no matter which of the many perspectives I discussed above I should take (or perhaps another one completely!), it all seems rather Sisyphean.
To me, it seems, I am at a point where I know I need to do something different --but whenever I do something different, it just seems terribly Sisyphean. I'm jealous of you, dear reader, and your seeming happiness and contentedness with the way things are. What's your secret?
Time is a concept I tend to say "yeah, I'm interested in exploring that...!" but I never do. There was that one instance where I actually googled it and came across the fact that Immanuel Kant wrote quite a bit on the subject. I also have a memory of a history professor rattling up my mind somewhat when he began a lecture with a fairly obvious point --only in the Judeo-Christian perspective, only in the Gregorian calendar, is today 12 August 2012. Of course, I wrote it the way many other countries write it, or to be even more international: 12.08.12. Beautiful. Logical. I also have been discussing with others the notion of when the week begins --why do most American calendars have Sunday as the first day? Etymologically speaking, one can look at the Russian days of the week and see that chetvirg (thursday) is indeed the 4th day of the week, with chet coming from chetiri, or four. My apologies for the poor transliteration; it is sloppy.
My mind has been rather sloppy lately. Though there is much beauty around me, around all of us, I still somehow feel it to be so artificial, like the time constructs briefly mentioned above. Thus, I find myself caught in a pseudo-intellectual debate about what is real and what is not, my mind blinking with excitement to discuss Rousseau and what he had to say on the subject, when I studied him a bit in 2006 under the tutleage of Jonathan Beecher, one of the most exciting and adorable academics I have ever had the privilege of encountering.
Professor Beecher --or Johnny B. as I liked to call him --is a wonderful old man, retired now, who was always bursting with enthusiasm. I'm still a bit in awe of people who can do that, simply shine with radiance at every turn. Though I had read bits and pieces of Howard Zinn before, I came to the conclusion based on reading one book that Mr Zinn must have been the same way; nothing but pure excitement and joy. I recently talked to someone who, truly, is usually considered to be very optimistic and how it really upset her that the one day she was upset everyone freaked out and couldn't understand.
Where does this optimism swell from? When I talk to others, or discuss what makes a great mind or a great person or whatever, there seems to be some sort of immovable, unshakable core. For some, it is the spirit of science and inquiry and a sense of happiness knowing we are small in such an infinite, elegant universe. There are those, too, who seem happy, contented, delighted to belong to a church (usually of some Christian denomination) and see that as a guiding light. According to one friend, there is also the happy homosexual we know in SF that is a nihilist. Nihilist. There are those, too, whom I know that seem to bristle with confusion when I ask about their spiritual/philosophical orientation, as if it is an affront or a terribly, terribly embarrassing question that is downright impolite.
Where do we stand on anything?
Life for life's sake. Live for god. To reproduce. These just seem so horribly, horribly inadequate.
But I think it best if, just for now, just for the sake of this journal, I embrace the beauty around me. When I tread water in my pool, sometimes listening to music, sometimes in silence, I feel this sense of calm by doing something physical.
I've been having this epiphany that I've been living my life completely wrong this whole time. But I'm just not sure how to break free. As I don't really have a history of physical labour, and I do have 2 UC degrees, it seems silly to just sort of take up construction or something else. Jogging seems like a wonderful habit to pick up. As much as I enjoy using my mind, there needs to be something more, something greater.
No decisions have been made yet. Part of my recent anxiety is realising just how limited I've made myself. I'm struggling to break free, to find purpose. Each day I get closer. The road ahead will take lots of hard work --and therein lies my problem, my Achilles heel, if you will --I'm lazy.
Today, however, I've got to make some sort of sacrifice. I fell in love with Marcus Aurelius and his Meditations because of the attraction and beauty of stoicism. During that period of my life, I thought about being a monk. There have been many thoughts, many interests, but few passions, but it all seems fleeting. I don't want to be Sisyphus, and perhaps this is just the laziness and fear talking, but it seems no matter what we do, no matter which of the many perspectives I discussed above I should take (or perhaps another one completely!), it all seems rather Sisyphean.
To me, it seems, I am at a point where I know I need to do something different --but whenever I do something different, it just seems terribly Sisyphean. I'm jealous of you, dear reader, and your seeming happiness and contentedness with the way things are. What's your secret?