A picture says a 1000 words... or does it?

We’ve all heard the saying...

But how many images do six words convey?

Let’s be honest, steak was NOT the first think you thought about!
Maybe its because I am a woman, maybe my hormones have to do something with it! It all came down to my state of mind. Had I been a man, or a starving bona fide meat eater maybe I would have pictured a nice juicy Kobe/Angus chunk of meat!

It all comes down to 'meaning'…

I struggle to say whether ‘some’, ‘most’ or ‘all’ of us are looking for it in our own way. To avoid absolutes I’ll say that for those of us who are searching for meaning, we seek for it in different things, places and through varying means, encouraged by an infinite array of sources.

The quest [for meaning] is timeless and has not set time framework. Sometimes determination will get us closer, other times the determination to find meaning may, unknowingly, divert us from finding it. More often than not we’ll never get all of it in one go but will be able to pick up the pieces of the puzzle and slowly a meaningful picture will emerge... or at least so we hope!

How often have we followed a path only to realise, once that way has been exhausted, that the meaning found is other than that we sought. Indeed, looking for meaning has nothing to do with finding what you expected/wanted to find.

Why? Ideally, the journey would be undertaken with an open (objective) mind and as little, if any, (subjective) preconceptions as possible... But am I not being subjective now? Why is it that objectivity opposed to subjectivity? Why is it that often the meaning that ensues from objectivity more valued than that can arises from subjectivity? My head is starting to turn...

Objective/subjective... lately I have been trying to organise my thoughts (not quite there yet)... It just so happens that along the way I have found myself pondering on the meaning of other age-old dichotomies: right/wrong, light/dark, genius/madness… By opposing them we’ve rendered the existence of one impossible without that of the other. Albeit simplistic, it is a peculiar way to create the world; separated by nothing more than a thin “/” (line) which can very much serve the purpose of a moat.

Words/concepts are constantly opposed yet two sides of the same coin.

“Reason without passion is dead, passion without reason pure folly”.

The relationship is undeniably complimentary; perhaps this yet another of life’s ironies?

No wonder then that striking a balance between the two is such a painstaking task; provided that the meaning of “balance” is agreed upon! So many things rely on this balance being sustained and seldom can we agree on the meaning or how to maintain it!

‘Tis thin a line that which separates humanity from brutality, sanity from folly… Sometimes a comforting shoulder in the height of battle will be the only means to see the meaning, saving us albeit for just a moment… The thin red line that separates absurdity from reason… It all hangs from an elusive line we are so prone to miss! Mistake, or willful omission? Maybe its artificial and as such unsustainable. Maybe we’re a bit off in the meaning…

What would one do with meaning? Without it we have a reason to go on, maybe if we had it our raison d’être would cease to be… Or is that what happens when meaning is the thin line that separates the desire (to live) from apathy?

Maybe the search for meaning proves fruitful only in scarce occasions (maybe never) and that provided the quest does not become the intoxicating hubris that will mark our end…

Then again maybe it is too late to avert the intoxication, maybe our hubris already got the best of us… Maybe this is why it sometimes feels like a never ending, arduous, repetitive and pointless task, much as Sisyphus boulder. Your guess is as good as mine!

Is Random ever random?

If we go by my previous posting, then the answer is NO!

I have made a series of decisions which have brought me here I am at the entrance of a labyrinth and am walking in knowing I am journeying in the search for my Minotaur; in store a duel to the death.

I can only hope that I will be victorious like Theseus and annihilate my doubts. But unlike Theseus I have no Ariadne, I only have my sense of direction to guide me back out of the labyrinth! And of late my compass may have lost its North; don't know that Sartre can help me here!

Was it just a casual encounter or is this a second event in an emerging self-destructive pattern? What happens when loose allegiances lead you to take up the invitation of a total stranger? Is it self-discovery or more like self-sabotage? Is this a pattern emerging?

I like Him I really do, but my patience is being put to the test and to be honest all the good intentions may not suffice to make it endure. So maybe I don’t like Him as much… If He just gave me more to work with… Or should I be asking for more to work with? I don’t want to be demanding; His job seems to give Him enough of that! Aaarggghhh!

On my way to the party I tried to process some of it… The only thing is the processing process maybe have gone astray in recent months and as a result my judgement may be clouded…
So last night, when I was on my way to the party I decided I would have fun and get MY way at some point during the night.

Far from Reason, the rationale behind the original processing/coping mechanism may have evolved into a different creature with an obscure raison d’être…

I was really hoping I’d get to see Him this weekend alas something came up and I found myself disappointed at the impossibility to see Him and upset at my disappointment! Why do I get emotionally involved when things are still up in the air? Plus maybe it was not such a bad thing He didn’t make it, given the party was quiet until we hit the club... That and it was mostly attended by married couples... that could have been potentially awkward.

The night was uneventful until I was on my way home...

The night bus is a must if you have stayed out partying until the wee hours of the morning and don’t feel like dropping 40 quid to get home... I’ve been on it enough times. I had to take the it from Putney. Whilst waiting for the bus at Clapham Junction a guy started talking to me. I was happy to oblige… He seemed charming enough… little did I know he was French; he had a perfect British accent. Having established we were both fairly confident creatures, flirting commenced. We seemed to be on the same page and it quickly built up to an invitation to come over for a drink...

I did quite a bit of "obliging". More than what happened would have happened had he not lost his keys… It may still happen since he asked for my number, and I may just feel like obliging some more...

Question is now, why am I incurring in such amorous affairs? Is it because when opportunity knocks it seems silly to turn it down? Could it be that my judgement was clouded by spite? It could be a misguided way to mend a bruised ego (and shoot myself in the foot on the way!)? Maybe I was out for the shock factor?

But as far as last night goes, I have no regrets...

IF my gut is right, then patience is the key BUT is my gut right? Could it be that unbeknown to my consciousness I am just deluding myself? Maybe He is just not (that) into me!

What does it say if I am patient but indulge on the side? Am I constructing a convoluted rationale to justify my actions and ensuing behaviour? Do I have to lose myself before I am found? Is this a healthy self exploration or is this the beginning of a slow decent into a downwards spiral? A labyrinth out of which I am not to escape unscathed!

I am short on answers of late...

The eye of the storm

The last few days have been spent in a bit of an emotional blur … Let’s face it by nature I tend to default into an overly “analytical” state of mind. More often than not, I succeed in making sense but when it comes to my feelings, I stumble upon a place where abstract thought seems to be filtered out.

Which led me to wonder: What happens when existentialism meets determinism?

In Greek tragedy, the hero’s fate is foretold and at times known to him/her. The story sees this hero(ine) run from Fate only to follow his/her hubris and come crashing into it at full speed. Life is not without a sense of irony.

Can the opposite also hold true? The more you want something the more you can push it away. Or perhaps the more you want something the more you fear it won’t come to be, thus if you push it away you can “justify” not getting it. So what is it? Are we first caught in a predetermined game of fate or are we, first and foremost, the existence we project?

Technically speaking, all of the above are possibilities. Indeed determinism is only a possibility (one you choose to accept); existentialism tends to lead the way to a few more options… the only absolute truth is that there is no absolute truth!

It is the irony in life (again) that makes it so those around you see your path more clearly than you can? How can you find clarity when you ignore it is lacking? Neither Oedipus nor Cassandra fared too well. The former was too blind to see and make sense of what the soothsayer told him. As for Cassandra, she was “condemned” to see the path but not able to have any effect on it. Granted maybe being a woman in those days didn’t help her out much…

Regardless it is fair to ask whether theirs were deliberate decisions not to see or act or accidental occurrences forced by circumstance?

But why all this rambling?

Sometimes I feel prisoner of Reason (or is it reasoned arguments?). But were I to accept this, I’d be accepting a Fate. Instead, I am choosing to find my clarity in the eye of the storm, where reason and instinct meet temperance and clarity naturally ensues.

We are the sum of our actions, actions that barely precede our decisions. We are therefore the decisions we project unto the world… There is no Fate!