Questions
It's intriguing how as a child I was the kid who always had the right answer. I'm certainly not trying to blow my own whistle, but for those who know me, it is somewhat obvious that I can act like a "know-it-all". What I find most interesting though is that while out outwardly I always seem to have an answer, in my head I have spent most of my life (my adult life, at least) asking questions. Questions about life and love, friends and family... but also deeper things, questions about the universe and it's purpose, the very nature of it's existence. I have always longed for an explanation on the existence of... existence itself, and how we are born into a world, driven with hungers and passions which we do not understand.
Aside from that, my train of thought this past week also led me down the road of personal growth and change. Four years ago, I was 16 years old and went to my very first pride festival in Ottawa. At the time, I was in love with it. I saw it as an expression of emotion and freedom, happiness and fun. But this year, so many years later... I just couldn't wait for the damn thing to be over. I spent this pride in a state of somewhat abject though, basically just wanting my city to return to normal. It is no secret that I claim to have a very strong personal connection with Toronto; indeed I have stated on more than one occasion that it is probably the love of my life. So, even though the pride festival is a strong economic boom and really allows many others to see how great this city is... I really just wanted them all to leave. I found myself hating the crowded subway lines, the already busy sidewalks simply overloaded with people to the point of annoyance. It was hot and muggy and there were people everywhere and I really just wanted to walk home without having to worry about my appearance after work being judged by 1 million+ new people.
It's interesting how our, or I should say my, point of view on such a thing has changed so much. I went from hating a city and loving it's festival to loving the city and loathing the festival. Perhaps it has something to do with my recent changes in personal behaviour: I don't really drink or party or do any of the things I did in my first year or two of university for example. Of course I indulge occasionally, on birthdays and random events (I am human after all) but lately I've found myself perfectly content to just be working and to enjoy quieter nights at home watching tv, playing with my cat, going for walks and rollerblading and living a more... 'adult' life. Have I become so jaded and cynical that I no longer want to even be social? Or is it that I am just maturing to a point where that way of life seems to give me no validation or sense of meaning anymore? Certainly it's something to think about and I'll probably never get a clear, concrete answer; at least not in the immediate future.
Watching myself age and grow older, as well as watching those around me change and age, has been without a doubt the single most fascinating thing in life for me. I find it strange to look down at my hands and realise that, although we use them for everything we very rarely pay any 'real' attention to them. It's odd to look at them and see how they've changed so much since we were younger. Little scars and scratches, marks and lines. The subtle changes in skin tone and clarity, changes in hair pattern and the nails. It's funny how we never really notice ourselves changing and getting older, yet every now and then we are struck with a sort of epiphany at how much we have actually changed. I wonder if this is some sort of special psychological mechanism to prevent us from lapsing into fits of panic at how old we get, or if maybe at the very cores of our being are not as afraid of aging as we think. It seems that we all are, what with the multi-billion dollar cosmetic and fashion industries constantly bombarding us with images of youth and beauty... but maybe at the very deep levels of our minds, the most fundamental and sometimes inaccessible level, we all are ok and accepting of our age. I mean, from very early childhood we become aware that everyone grows up and then we realise that at some point all things must die. We learn that this is an inevitable fact of existence - it has always been this way, for all living things.
If you really think about, it almost seems silly to worry about it. Sure, there is that fear of the unknown, a fear of being forgotten, looking older and unwanted... but there is no true escape from it. It really isn't all that bad if you think about it; I've enjoyed growing and changing, absorbing more knowledge and watching my understanding of life and reality, the universe itself change and build. It almost seems sometimes as if there is a place in our mind that we can never quite reach but seems to 'get it'. As though we all have a built-in, fundamental and total understanding of what it truly is 'to be' and what the meaning of everything really is - it just feels a little out of reach, somewhat impossible to put into words. It's the sort of thing that you can never really explain to another person, we all just know it, somehow and at some level.
Our minds have the capacity to explore all reaches of the universe. Indeed, although we are physically bound by certain laws that govern motion and reality, in our minds we can travel from one end of the universe to the other instantaneously. How marvelous it can feel to try and explore the universe in your mind, to imagine the state of things at, say, the core of a star, or the delicate rings of Saturn. I can see in my bed the strange, silent and ethereal beauty of those rings; thousands of kilometres wide and at some places mere centimetres thick, floating in a silent dance around a distant planet for endless eons. Long after we are gone, they will remain as they always have. It's a sobering and thought invoking thing, the extreme stellar time periods. It's also kind of comforting though to realise that the universe does go on without you and will continue to for a very, very long time.
It's about 3AM now and I've wandered off my thought path, as I always seem to do, at least in my head if not out loud. But maybe my message will get across and someone will see through the words. Maybe not... either way, if you've read this, you're probably finding yourself asking your own questions - and that's what's really important in all this. Ask the questions, and seek the answers... even if you know you'll never find them.
Aside from that, my train of thought this past week also led me down the road of personal growth and change. Four years ago, I was 16 years old and went to my very first pride festival in Ottawa. At the time, I was in love with it. I saw it as an expression of emotion and freedom, happiness and fun. But this year, so many years later... I just couldn't wait for the damn thing to be over. I spent this pride in a state of somewhat abject though, basically just wanting my city to return to normal. It is no secret that I claim to have a very strong personal connection with Toronto; indeed I have stated on more than one occasion that it is probably the love of my life. So, even though the pride festival is a strong economic boom and really allows many others to see how great this city is... I really just wanted them all to leave. I found myself hating the crowded subway lines, the already busy sidewalks simply overloaded with people to the point of annoyance. It was hot and muggy and there were people everywhere and I really just wanted to walk home without having to worry about my appearance after work being judged by 1 million+ new people.
It's interesting how our, or I should say my, point of view on such a thing has changed so much. I went from hating a city and loving it's festival to loving the city and loathing the festival. Perhaps it has something to do with my recent changes in personal behaviour: I don't really drink or party or do any of the things I did in my first year or two of university for example. Of course I indulge occasionally, on birthdays and random events (I am human after all) but lately I've found myself perfectly content to just be working and to enjoy quieter nights at home watching tv, playing with my cat, going for walks and rollerblading and living a more... 'adult' life. Have I become so jaded and cynical that I no longer want to even be social? Or is it that I am just maturing to a point where that way of life seems to give me no validation or sense of meaning anymore? Certainly it's something to think about and I'll probably never get a clear, concrete answer; at least not in the immediate future.
Watching myself age and grow older, as well as watching those around me change and age, has been without a doubt the single most fascinating thing in life for me. I find it strange to look down at my hands and realise that, although we use them for everything we very rarely pay any 'real' attention to them. It's odd to look at them and see how they've changed so much since we were younger. Little scars and scratches, marks and lines. The subtle changes in skin tone and clarity, changes in hair pattern and the nails. It's funny how we never really notice ourselves changing and getting older, yet every now and then we are struck with a sort of epiphany at how much we have actually changed. I wonder if this is some sort of special psychological mechanism to prevent us from lapsing into fits of panic at how old we get, or if maybe at the very cores of our being are not as afraid of aging as we think. It seems that we all are, what with the multi-billion dollar cosmetic and fashion industries constantly bombarding us with images of youth and beauty... but maybe at the very deep levels of our minds, the most fundamental and sometimes inaccessible level, we all are ok and accepting of our age. I mean, from very early childhood we become aware that everyone grows up and then we realise that at some point all things must die. We learn that this is an inevitable fact of existence - it has always been this way, for all living things.
If you really think about, it almost seems silly to worry about it. Sure, there is that fear of the unknown, a fear of being forgotten, looking older and unwanted... but there is no true escape from it. It really isn't all that bad if you think about it; I've enjoyed growing and changing, absorbing more knowledge and watching my understanding of life and reality, the universe itself change and build. It almost seems sometimes as if there is a place in our mind that we can never quite reach but seems to 'get it'. As though we all have a built-in, fundamental and total understanding of what it truly is 'to be' and what the meaning of everything really is - it just feels a little out of reach, somewhat impossible to put into words. It's the sort of thing that you can never really explain to another person, we all just know it, somehow and at some level.
Our minds have the capacity to explore all reaches of the universe. Indeed, although we are physically bound by certain laws that govern motion and reality, in our minds we can travel from one end of the universe to the other instantaneously. How marvelous it can feel to try and explore the universe in your mind, to imagine the state of things at, say, the core of a star, or the delicate rings of Saturn. I can see in my bed the strange, silent and ethereal beauty of those rings; thousands of kilometres wide and at some places mere centimetres thick, floating in a silent dance around a distant planet for endless eons. Long after we are gone, they will remain as they always have. It's a sobering and thought invoking thing, the extreme stellar time periods. It's also kind of comforting though to realise that the universe does go on without you and will continue to for a very, very long time.
It's about 3AM now and I've wandered off my thought path, as I always seem to do, at least in my head if not out loud. But maybe my message will get across and someone will see through the words. Maybe not... either way, if you've read this, you're probably finding yourself asking your own questions - and that's what's really important in all this. Ask the questions, and seek the answers... even if you know you'll never find them.