This is, perhaps, a depressing thought, but everything in life is going to end, including life itself.
Boo-urns, eh? I mean, who thinks of this on a Saturday morning? To be fair, I thought of this a few weeks ago, and I think it was a Monday - which should explain the depressing quality of the thought.
But
Where others see a morbid, pessimistic outlook on life, I see the freedom to just simply let things BE and not make them define us . . . you see, if I define my life based on something external to me, then the worth of my life depends on that thing. My life only has worth if my _________ is in it. It gets really messy when that thing is a person, because love can FEEL a lot like this, except of course love is never a feeling and always an action, a choice, that happens to usually accompany feelings that we tend to think of as positive. That's a different topic altogether, though.
So, if everything ends, including our lives here on this rock, and I'm willing to treat everything as such WHILE still enjoying it for what it is, I think that I'd be on my way to a pretty healthy approach to life - free from neediness, free to not smother others in an attempt to keep them around (when really, everyone leaves at some point - until we die, which is when we leave others), free to bask in the glory of today, because today is all we have for now.
9.18.2010
9.09.2010
Fahrenheit 451 . . .
which, as we all know, is the temperature that the books are burned at in the self same novel.
And yes, this is another blog about the (now aborted) idea by one Terry Jones to burn Korans this Saturday.
I'm a Christian. The God that Terry Jones and I worship is probably the same God. If you read the Old Testament, he strikes you as a very intolerant God (of course, intolerance itself isn't bad - I'm not tolerant of rape or murder. See, it's all in the object people, not the act). I purposely say these things because it's so easy to distance ourselves from those who appear crazy. If people want to lump me and Terry together, well, okay then. He can be like the stereotypical crazy uncle or something.
But back to book burning for a second, because that's really what I want to talk about. What is a book? What is literature? It is the communication of ideas from the mind of one person to, potentially, the minds of millions, with the intent of sharing knowledge, perspective, opinion, humour, life . . . it is a big part of what makes us humans. No other creature communicates so prolifically every single day. Now, of course, there are going to be conflicting views - not everyone sees everything the same way, nor should they. That would be boring.
Perhaps a better alternative (though perhaps one he will never take, considering that he wrote a book called Islam is From the Devil) is to allow God (who Terry and I would agree, I hope, is the source of all truth) to show him the truth that permeates not just Islam, but all religions. I know this sounds quite universalist (and to my Christian friends, I assure you, I am nothing of the sort), but I AM a guy who has had his understanding of who God is enhanced by the works of a Muslim poet . . .
whose works I am thankful were never burned.
And yes, this is another blog about the (now aborted) idea by one Terry Jones to burn Korans this Saturday.
I'm a Christian. The God that Terry Jones and I worship is probably the same God. If you read the Old Testament, he strikes you as a very intolerant God (of course, intolerance itself isn't bad - I'm not tolerant of rape or murder. See, it's all in the object people, not the act). I purposely say these things because it's so easy to distance ourselves from those who appear crazy. If people want to lump me and Terry together, well, okay then. He can be like the stereotypical crazy uncle or something.
But back to book burning for a second, because that's really what I want to talk about. What is a book? What is literature? It is the communication of ideas from the mind of one person to, potentially, the minds of millions, with the intent of sharing knowledge, perspective, opinion, humour, life . . . it is a big part of what makes us humans. No other creature communicates so prolifically every single day. Now, of course, there are going to be conflicting views - not everyone sees everything the same way, nor should they. That would be boring.
Perhaps a better alternative (though perhaps one he will never take, considering that he wrote a book called Islam is From the Devil) is to allow God (who Terry and I would agree, I hope, is the source of all truth) to show him the truth that permeates not just Islam, but all religions. I know this sounds quite universalist (and to my Christian friends, I assure you, I am nothing of the sort), but I AM a guy who has had his understanding of who God is enhanced by the works of a Muslim poet . . .
whose works I am thankful were never burned.
9.03.2010
profound for profundity's sake . . .
. . . which I hope this isn't, and I hope I never have been. I know I kinda go in circles with my thoughts; that is, that I often repeat similar trains of thought at a later date, but I hope that in so doing I don't come across as trying to just "be deep". It's more a process of working things out by getting them out there so others can see what it is and possibly comment on it then an attention grab. I mean, really, who looks for attention through a blog?
Today finds me content enough to enjoy the present but far too restless to stay here. I get these urges to move every so often, to chase some grand dream somewhere, regardless of the destination or the cost, and while it sounds reckless, it is the very recklessness of it all that makes me come alive. Impractical, perhaps, and possibly smacking of a bit of licentiousness ( I can do it no matter what it is provided it gives me that rush of living) . . . except the grand dreams I have involve radical ways to make the world a better place, not cocaine fueled sex binges of orgiastic proportions. For example.
If there are any absurdists out there, I think sometimes I can relate. I would only add the caveat that a search for meaning in life is SEEMINGLY pointless at times, not actually pointless. Deep down, I think it is essentially to the act of living to discover why one exists, and, in finding it, to live it out as dangerously as possible.
I think if they handed out safety gear for life, I wouldn't wear it. You know? Like a bike helmet for biking, a seat belt for driving . . . if there is a safe way to live, I don't want to do it. Reckless.
Today finds me content enough to enjoy the present but far too restless to stay here. I get these urges to move every so often, to chase some grand dream somewhere, regardless of the destination or the cost, and while it sounds reckless, it is the very recklessness of it all that makes me come alive. Impractical, perhaps, and possibly smacking of a bit of licentiousness ( I can do it no matter what it is provided it gives me that rush of living) . . . except the grand dreams I have involve radical ways to make the world a better place, not cocaine fueled sex binges of orgiastic proportions. For example.
If there are any absurdists out there, I think sometimes I can relate. I would only add the caveat that a search for meaning in life is SEEMINGLY pointless at times, not actually pointless. Deep down, I think it is essentially to the act of living to discover why one exists, and, in finding it, to live it out as dangerously as possible.
I think if they handed out safety gear for life, I wouldn't wear it. You know? Like a bike helmet for biking, a seat belt for driving . . . if there is a safe way to live, I don't want to do it. Reckless.
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