Ground to stand on
There is no “magic bullet,” no words booming down from the mounting thunderheads, no magical mystical blazing letters scrawled by an ethereal whorl on the nearby wall, no “you’ve just won…!” letter showing up in the mailbox that spells everything out in clear detail.
Nothing at all. Nothing to set the yellow line that should be walked through this maze of oblique walls and shadows they call Life.
The act of creation is insane.
Lots of ideas in my head, lots of potential projects, less focus, much less time. What to work on? What direction and shape should it take? And where to find the time to do it, to have the sanity and energy to push forward until the goal is reached?
Archimedes wasn’t smoking the cheap dope when he reportedly said something to the effect of, “Show me where to stand, and I shall move the world.”
Even if moving the world is an exaggeration in light of our flimsy and often impotent mortality, the intention is still noble and heartfelt – I don’t care about the results, just give me something *specific* to chase and I can bring all my skills and talents and love and leverage to bear on it.
There are the quintessential explorers (of which I am one), who by nature believe that truth exists outside themselves and thus spend their energy searching the world for clues and (if lucky) answers.
We coexist with both the decisives and the artisans, those who look for truth internally and thus create it for themselves in the desire to take action – the first by imposing their answers on life’s questions, the second by imposing their will on the substance of the world.
Finding the truth within, based on one’s personal preferences, feels like little more than vicarious wish-fulfillment. And I have no idea what I should be wishing for, or if what I wish for is something worth pursuing.
I hate how ineffectual this feels, yet I hate the discomfort of trying to make decisions in a void. Having to simply pick a direction is literally like falling into an abyss, my head spinning; maintaining that direction, even more difficult and frightening.
Why did God make the world the way He did? How did He choose from all the countless possibilities, the infinitude of contrasting details? Why are some things and others not? How did he decide to place the limitations He did upon his own creation, excluding others?
How do I accept what I am – a discoverer and explorer – yet still accomplish anything of value beyond mere perception?
How can I move if I cannot even find the ground beneath my feet?
Nothing at all. Nothing to set the yellow line that should be walked through this maze of oblique walls and shadows they call Life.
The act of creation is insane.
Lots of ideas in my head, lots of potential projects, less focus, much less time. What to work on? What direction and shape should it take? And where to find the time to do it, to have the sanity and energy to push forward until the goal is reached?
Archimedes wasn’t smoking the cheap dope when he reportedly said something to the effect of, “Show me where to stand, and I shall move the world.”
Even if moving the world is an exaggeration in light of our flimsy and often impotent mortality, the intention is still noble and heartfelt – I don’t care about the results, just give me something *specific* to chase and I can bring all my skills and talents and love and leverage to bear on it.
There are the quintessential explorers (of which I am one), who by nature believe that truth exists outside themselves and thus spend their energy searching the world for clues and (if lucky) answers.
We coexist with both the decisives and the artisans, those who look for truth internally and thus create it for themselves in the desire to take action – the first by imposing their answers on life’s questions, the second by imposing their will on the substance of the world.
Finding the truth within, based on one’s personal preferences, feels like little more than vicarious wish-fulfillment. And I have no idea what I should be wishing for, or if what I wish for is something worth pursuing.
I hate how ineffectual this feels, yet I hate the discomfort of trying to make decisions in a void. Having to simply pick a direction is literally like falling into an abyss, my head spinning; maintaining that direction, even more difficult and frightening.
Why did God make the world the way He did? How did He choose from all the countless possibilities, the infinitude of contrasting details? Why are some things and others not? How did he decide to place the limitations He did upon his own creation, excluding others?
How do I accept what I am – a discoverer and explorer – yet still accomplish anything of value beyond mere perception?
How can I move if I cannot even find the ground beneath my feet?
posted by Fortunato at 11:11 AM
<< Home