Thinking, Thinking...
This is a post that I meant to write a few days ago, but couldn't figure out how to word properly. On whatever day that was, I was out to dinner with the kids, mum, and mark. I got into a puesdo-sort-of argument with mark, over something unimportant. However, it led to something much larger - for myself, anyway. What we ended up arguing about was this: the relvancy of math to life. I realize, entirely, that this doesn't sound like anything of any great importance, but what he ended up saying was that everything was quantitative and could be reduced to an equation. For example, when technology gets better, a computer will be able to produce works of art.
Ever have a moment when you feel like the universe has just grabbed you by the ears and given you a thourgh shake? This was one of those seconds. I thought about what was just said; honest to god, stopped and considered it, and everything in me screamed at the wrongness of this idea. The thought that artwork and humanity and rest of it could be reduced, dwindled, to bits of numbers made a small voice that I had been ignoring perk up. From somewhere near the back of my head, this voice silenced the scientist, the voices of reason and logic, and the cold sound of the girl-who-could-care-less-about-dreams.
I felt like floodgates had been opened. From such a small thing, came such huge thoughts - ripples from a stone.
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I know now that I will never be content to be involved in science if I become something like a number-cruncher. It will kill me, bit by bit, if I do. I want to write and feel and paint and live.
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I know now what it means to be ordianary. There are bigger things in the world, and I want to be part of them. We have been granted the ability to do great things, so what makes us cling to the earth? I don't know. I do know this: it is not enough to live in this world. It is not enough to wake up and go to work and come home and kiss the baby and sleep and wake up. This is not enough.
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I know now the answer to a question that has bothered me for the longest time. How do you win? By living alive and awake and breathing new air everyday. By doing something that means something. By moving with passion.
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It was such a little argument. It didn't really matter. I needn't have been life-altering. It was just one of those things.
That night, I went home and dreamt of color and hope.