My collection of wise, and not so wise, postings

Sunday 14 October 2012

My answer to the big question....?

I found a long lost friend, on facebook, the other day. I never knew him for a long period of time, but there was something I recognized in him back then. I still think I understand where he is coming from... anyway; He asked if I had found the answers? Of course, when somebody asks like that, it is implied we are talking about the big questions. The reasons, the meanings, the whys and becauses....

The reply I gave was that: “Yes, I have found the answers to what used to trouble me”.
But after we finished chatting, on facebook, I was thinking that maybe that was the most self-indulgent answer I could possibly give. So much so, it must have come across as rather overbearing and cocky.

Of course, I both know and understand that the search for the meaning of life is, to many, a quest they pursuit their entire adult life.
And during the teenages we don’t even realize that is what we do, while we make desitions and choises we are not ready to make.

We chase what we think is what we want in life, and yet, for some reason, the feeling of being fully content is not achieved. So, we start to blame anything and anybody for our own lack of well-being.

To a great extent it is true, you know.
Through our whole life we try to do what we are good at. It can be kids, trying to behave the way their parents want them to. It can be teenagers trying to find their way into the future. It can be adults trying to do a good job. It can be people, in general, trying to find a religion or guide-lines to help them lead a good life.

And no matter how hard we try, it is so hard to find significant others who compliment our effort. We search for friends or groups with similar standpoint in order to get some kind of backup to who we are and what we stand for.
Some times they lead us astray and influence us on taking the wrong choises, other times they reinforce our stand, because we want their recognition and they are compatible to what we think or do.

We all have different baggage. We all have individual stories. We all have our achieved degree of selfesteem. Wether it is based on reality or a chosen attitude towards other people’s prejudices is not really important... feelings can’t be debated. What is important is that no matter where we are in life we need confirmation that we do well and that we are ok. There is no need to add the: “Considering your premises”.

To stand in reality and face life is hard. To forgive is even harder, but often that is what it takes to let go and focus on what is going well.
My answer to what used to trouble me is as following: There is no one answer, but I forgive. I do not have to forget. To forgive does not include a renewal of trust. Trust is something which must be earned. But if I forgive, I can let go, regardless of the other person still feeling bad about what he did or said.

Other than that I try to lead my life by the seven last commandments. Doing the best I can on that, I believe I can stand tall and have faith in myself. Those old guys really knew what they were talking about, and the seven last commandments tell us how it is possible to live at peace and in hormony with eachother as human beings... silly as we often are.
That being said... I am too confused to lie; I never remember what I said last, and end up painting myself into a painful corner. And that is basically the thing about all of them.

To have this guideline makes me able to accept others for who they are, without having to agree. And that is my answer to the big questions. Not really an answer, but a stand, I suppose.

Thursday 11 October 2012

Madness.

We sometimes use the term with such ease, when we want to explain something out of ordinary... usually when something occurs which we would not find normal to cause or participate in.

The tone of voice desides whether we think it is a good or a bad thing.
Some times we think madness is outrageous and the worst thing possible, other times it illustrates a fulfilled success.

I have been aware, for quite some time, that my mind works in a way which makes me come across as... not unstable or unpredictable or anything like that, but more... hard to figure out, I guess.
At least that is what people tell me when they think I should be told.
Anyway, today I concretised my own madness.

Not going to bore you with the long story, but the result of it, is that I had a lot of boxes filled with paperbacks. I stacked them on the floor in my office, and I never really paid any attention to them, other than when I was looking for some easy reading. Something I could sit down and do without having to think. Then I would browse through a random box, pick a random book and read it, for no other reason than to read.

I am not very good at wasting time, most of the time I multitask. But when I read, regardless of what kind of literature, I can focus on one thing, and that is the story taking place in my head as I read.

To read is so much better than to watch a movie, but I understand why not more people think that is the case: In my head, when I read, I see the movie, and I add details, accents, smells and tastes as I please... like a custom made film, just for me.

So, today I bid an era goodbye. Since I am on the mission to get a tidy house, where everything has its own place and everything is at its own place, I called the Salvation Army yesterday, and they told me they would be thrilled to take the books.
Getting used to the thought of letting the books go was hard, but I just could not justify the boxes anymore.
(It really is time to change your habits, when you buy a new book, and you realize it is an old edition (new cover, but still an old edition) and you discover this because you cite the text along while reading it.) 
Even less so since my son wants my office (which is actually an extra, tiny appartment in our house) for bedroom and entertaining friends. (We do not call it to move out, cause he has every intention of eating and getting his laundry done along with the rest of the family.)
I loaded the boxes into my car, searched the house and included stray books found  on the strangest places. By the time I was done loading the car, I realized that I, through the last 25 years, have read more than 2500 paperbacks, with hardly any variation in contents at all.
So, driving to the Salvation Army second hand store to deliver the books I was thinking: The only thing madder than buying these books is to actually read them... several times.
The best things that came out of me buying and reading these books, besides the peace of reading just for the sake of it, is that the Salvation Army will make a bit of money on them and someone (who may or may not really read a lot), will buy, read and like the thoughtless peace of reading, just for the sake of it.
Strange thing, though. In spite of the notion that you know how the story will end by the time you are half ways through the first page: The language in these books is often crafted and written in the most elegant eloquence I've ever come across.
“Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius, and it is better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring.” ~ Marilyn Monroe