The sun is out today, and it makes me feel good. I wonder why I feel so much better (other than the obvious injection of vitamin d) when it shines.
I struggle daily with the dichotomous concept of being and nothingness (this term – a title of one of Sartre’s works – was pulled from a recent Facebook comment I made regarding a poem I posted). If we are merely “nothing” then why bother engaging with the world… if we are “nothing” then why is engaging with the world in more than a perfunctory manner equally so enriching and so disappointing?
I’ve done both. In fact, I have run the gamut of emotions and cycling through the senses and the heart. Love – the idea of love – is such a construct of our imagination; the feeling it evokes internally a machination of our mind that filters through into our body and makes us experience it as something real. It’s not to say that it isn’t real in a very (pardon the pun) real sense. So what is the purpose of feeling, or our purpose of being made to feel (via our sensory processes)? Why is the discovery of our world of such great import? And how, through the unfolding of time and the culmination of our experiences of it, does it change us and, effectively, how we see it?
The idea that “there is a season for everything” rings true when considered in this way. We learn to touch and smell and see and taste and walk and finally think and reason (well, sometimes, anyway *smile*). Our experience of the world is largely based on what we think it is and is so subjective that there is no way to determine what is “true” and what is embellishment or delusion. Even through rigorous self-analysis, attempting to remain objective within the parameters of an experience, our belief of an experience underscores how our experience of it will be **and effectively shapes our reality**.
If this is the case – that no matter what we experience, it will always be skewed and be an “inaccurate” representation – then it would serve us well to figure out how we want our experience to unfold if there truly is no “default” setting which determines what that ought to be.
And you wonder, dear friends, why I exhaust myself with my own thinking processes?