The blogging, in particular, and just everything, in general.
Today's not one of those days though, thank goodness.
I don't imagine that's because I've discovered any sort of mysterious clue to the heart of the universe, if one exists, if the universe exists, and it's not all some figment of the collective imagination. I expect it's more along the lines of a kind of relaxation into the understanding that mystery not only defies understanding, but laughs at the effrontery of it. I like to imagine the laugh as a kindly one, firm but not malicious in any sort of way. Indifferent, perhaps, to the confusion of the ones debating point and pointlessness and the many variations of variations of possibility.
No I don't understand any of that. But I've been reading Deleuze and Guattari again. So I'm a little confused, and prone to using many words and comprehending none of them.
Well. I say reading. But really what I mean is that I open the book and stare at the letters and sometimes I catch a glimpse of the shadow of an idea. And then I look again, and no, it's all gibberish, like it's written in languages I can't even begin to hope to half-understand. I don't know why I torment myself this way; sometimes I read things that hurt, they're so intricate and beyond me. But it's soothing in an odd way. The words aren't much different than the bamboo that held me up that afternoon. Uncomfortable, as long as you resist the boldness of trusting something you know may very well bend and break and let you fall.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Sometimes I wonder what the point of all this is.
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4 comments:
when I'm particularly confused about existence and the meaning of it all, I remember the part in Illusions where the main character gives up trying to figure it all out, shrugs, and feels suddenly happy :)
I haven't seen Illusions, I'll have to add it to my Netflix list. (I love Netflix. It's one of my few extravangances.)
My husband says that's the key: to give up trying to figure it out or understand it and just say it is what it is, and get on with just doing it, rather than thinking so much. This is fine, in theory, I say. He doesn't smile at the irony, whether it's a lack of understanding or a desire to end the conversation I'm not entirely sure. I try not to worry about things so much, and lately I've been doing much better about that, and hardly worry at all. I told the girls just last night that it certainly didn't prevent anything from happening (worry, I mean) and so it was just an inefficient use of energy, plus it was bound to make them miserable and discontented. So we all agreed we wouldn't waste time and energy on worrying about things.
I don't know if there is a movie but the book is by Richard Bach and well worth reading.
When I just can't stop worrying over something, I set the oven timer for 15 minutes and think of nothing but whatever's bothering me. Then later, when some of those thoughts return, I remind myself I've already worried about that and it's easier to let it go ;)
Now for some reason a book didn't even occur to me, isn't that odd, and you with your shelves full. I guess I must be in a movie frame of mind. Though I did pick up an interesting looking book from the free book bin at the thrift store today, some Japanese novel in translation. And some physics textbooks, from what year of middle or high school I'm not certain. But they looked interesting, and I like learning about things; I find lately that I'm not near as clueless as I always thought I was when it comes to things like math and science and logic.
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