Thursday, November 21, 2013

The Mind is Beautiful

The mind is beautiful because of the paradox. It uses itself to understand itself." -Adam Elenbass
I've been speaking to multiple people (almost everyone I know, actually) about the idea of figuring it out and how we're pressured to know what's going on in different, "important" aspects of our lives, and we're supposed to know these answers by a certain age. But as days keep passing and years keep strolling, it is clear that no one has figured it out. By the time Barrett is old enough to understand what I've been writing and is old enough to question these things within his own life, it will still be clear that I haven't figured it out. And I am beginning to feel okay about that, and also beginning to feel okay with the fact that I kind of like knowing that I will never know what I will be doing when I am 40 until I am 40, and I will never know what will happen at the end until it's the end. We don’t even know what’s going to be happening next week. It's funny that this all seems like common sense, and yeah, everyone does (or should) question life at moments, especially the not so good moments, and we're left wondering what else is out there, even when what's right here is just enough.
The five of us are flying through the mundane webs of this one life, and they say life is short, but it's only short when you're stuck in the shit of the now. We need to realize that life is actually insanely long when we think about how much we have left. Of course, there are those statistics that tell us that one of us might die in the next twenty minutes in some freak accident, but those are just numbers. And ones I just made up for matters of perspective. In reality, we're just average twenty-somethings that will most likely live for the next sixty years. Sixty. Years. And our parents will most likely live for the next thirty years. And Barrett, he's got triple that. We tell little ones, "you've got your whole life ahead of you," and I believe that. But after a certain age, we begin to tell ourselves that, and I call bullshit on that phrase after the age of 18. Or maybe 22, when life actually starts to feel like life. That phrase becomes an excuse, and a terrible one. We get caught up in telling ourselves that and we push the dreams to the side, even it's just a dream about moving, traveling, etc. And I know I just said that life is long, but it's not long enough to simply sit down and reflect on what happened, think about trying to be in the present, and keep telling ourselves that there is always tomorrow. There is tomorrow, but tomorrow is just going to be another today. And if we spend our time thinking about dreaming but not acting, then we're just defined by the nine-to-fives, the social security numbers, and the facades of our Instagram feeds. 
 Maybe I am simply addressing myself and what has been going through the mouths of those around me, but I think it's relevant to document feelings of uncertainty. I think uncertainty is beautiful and almost always frowned upon. I even feel privileged to be overwhelmed by my many options in how I want to spend my days, even if I don't always choose the most fulfilling. I just want to tell myself and those around me that it's okay to not know. That it's okay to fail.

Sorry for the absence (Brit, I'm talking to you) and sorry for the long rant. 
Got some catching up to do on the documentation front.
Halloween! Barrett went as baby Frankenstein and got a handful of chocolate and a face full of blue artificial coloring. He had fun and checked trick or treating off his list of things to learn. 

Here are a few more life moments: 

I spoke to Daniel on the phone the other night for over an hour, speaking of topics similar to the ones above. At the end of it all, I ended up at this video, which kind of gives a beautiful face to the concepts I've been teasing out. You can measure your life out in jelly beans, coffee spoons, or not at all, but whatever you do, don't forget to remember that it's all going to keep moving no matter what, so we've got to do the same. And Julian will always be there with its sunshine-y fields, apple cider & pie, and a house of books to remind us that that is really all that matters in this life.