So this is where it begins...

At the end of the summer I will be married. Next year I will finish my masters, and will no doubt fall into the trap of getting my PhD. Why not, right?

These are all great things, don't get me wrong. I have a best friend for life, and for that I am eternally grateful. I have a great situation with work and school. I'm an extremely lucky person.

But that's sort of the problem. Life is fine. Really no troubles here. Not much reason to step back and look at the bigger picture. Just keep trodding along. Don't look up, it's too much trouble. Don't think too hard, it hurts too much now. Just keep doing what you are doing. Don't ask silly questions. Stop thinking about those things, they don't really matter much now.

I can't save the world. I'm not sure there is anyone who can, including 'God'. I don't know if I even believe in God anymore.

My life is starting to spin hopelessly into my control.

I have the power to make good, responsible, safe decisions. For me, for my future wife.

Why dream of moving to Africa to help those less fortunate when it interferes with plans to paint the bathroom orange?

What's the point?

Why should I care about anyone else?

Now I see why people hold so tightly to their republican gods...the last stronghold on any objective reasons as to how this world could possibly make any sense at all.

I feel like I've been sleeping. I feel like every day that sleep gets a little heavier. I love my life more and more everyday. I love the people around me more and more.

And yet everyday it feels like I'm losing a sense of belonging to the bigger world that is out there.

I need to wake up. But I'm not sure how. I can see myself, in bed, the room, my arms and hands and chest...but I can't move, I can't sit up. I'm frozen in this place, half way between delirious slumber and a scary world that I could probably do without.

Sometimes You Hate Being Right...

I met Dan when I was in highschool. He was short for his age, and it was very obvious that he was rather self conscious about his height. I imagine that he, like all of us, was rather self conscious about a lot of things.

Dan was my brothers age. Three years my younger. He was thin, pale, red hair. He was born to rebel against his parents who are as close to you get to 'fundamentalist' without being that obnoxious.

By the end of high school Dan had shot up many inches, and was well over six feet. He'd died his hair blonde, but the red freckles and the wiry frame were still there.

It's been a sort of twisted joke that Dan was living a lifestyle the last few years that was going to kill him. Not a funny joke, but rather that shake your head as you say the words and look down in sadness kind of joke.

And then he did.

Dan died a few days ago. His lifestyle caught up with him, or rather his body never quite caught up with his lifestyle.

There was so much sadness before he died, so can you imagine how much sadness there must be now?

I guess in a few days I'll be going home to see the boys, to tell stories, to get a bit teary eyed, to see people at the funeral who were a big part of a life I haven't lived in a long time. It will be strange. It will be painful.

All I can think about is his family. His sister and his parents who must be so ripped apart in side even as I'm writing this. I can't even imagine. So I just try not to.

And I keep thinking about a body that has no more 'Dan' left inside of it. I keep trying to think about where 'Dan' might go. But the truth is, I have no idea. It hurts my head to try and think about it. It makes me feel uncomfortable. It makes me wonder if I jumped off the 'straight to heaven' bandwagon too soon.

Existential beliefs are hard to swallow when someone dies. It's hard not to think they must be somewhere, you know?

In a weird way though, I've found some comfort in the physics that leads so many to believe that we must truly be alone.

Many physicists, well respected scientists, who study the nature of the universe itself, are coming to believe more and more that we are just one of an infinite number of threads of a larger 'verse' where every possible version of what could be, is. Universes filled with 'copies' of you and me, whose lives are different from our own in some tiny way, some small decision that we could have made differently- a decision that this version of us did make differently. It sounds so abstract, so strange.

But then I think that if it really is true, it means that somewhere, in another universe, Dan woke up on Friday morning.

Yes, but it's not OUR Dan, you say.

In some way, I suppose you are right. But you and I would not know the difference between that Dan and OUR Dan. It's only that he lived when OUR Dan could no longer.

Maybe it's just wishful thinking. Maybe it's weirded than just believing there is a God who is watching out for us, and taking care of us after all this is over. Maybe it's less personal.

Still, it helps just a little bit. It makes it all a little easier to digest. Dan isn't 'gone', he's just not with us anymore. It's sad, but not as sad as the alternative.

I don't really even believe in prayer anymore, but in spite of that fact, I offer them now to Dan's family. And to 'Dan', if he still exists in any way, shape or form.

I'm sorry your life had to end so tragically. You were such a charasmatic person. You wanted everyone to love you so much, you tried so hard, but I'm not sure you ever realized how much we all did love you. You were difficult, but so what?

I know we rarely saw eachother these days, and I never really make an effort to see you. But I miss you. You will never show up at my birthday dinners. You won't be there to pick up girls at my wedding.

I wish things could have gone differently.

I hope wherever you are, you've woken up, and realized you have your life ahead of you to spend with the people who really do love you.

Where Do You Even Begin?

I've been thinking a lot recently, about all the things I haven't thought about in a long, long time. Things that make me wonder if I'm all thought, and no action.

You see it's not that I feel pulled. I know what that feels like. This is not it. This is, well, what is this? It's apathy, I suppose, parading as a lack of empathy- which means it's not really pretending at all.

Che. Tutu. These names swirl around in my head like a problem waiting to be solved. Where do you even begin to solve a problem that never began?

It's so difficult because, of course, we were always part of the problem. How can we fight against suffering if disorder is mother nature's way? Gravity will only let you rise so high. Electricity will only let the light burn so long. Your heart will only let you love so much.

So why try at all?

It's a subtley ill-formed question. It supposes there is a something, a reason.

What about the question: Why not?

Have we any reason to believe we shouldn't continue on with this life? That we shouldn't give all abandonment to loving, and raging against all that suffering in the world?

You keep telling me that your God gives you answers. Reasons. And that is fine. No doubt he/she does. And why should those answers be any better? Why should those reasons be any less subject to doubt?

I don't need a reason to live, I need a reason not to live. I need a reason not to love. I need a reason not to laugh. I need a reason not to wonder what the world would be like if people hurt just a little bit less.

Go ahead. Give me a reason. But you don't have one do you? Because you believe in all those 'reasons' you've already told me. Damn, ain't that a quandry. If you tell me I don't have any reason to live, you are negating those very reasons you hold so tightly to. So you have your reasons, and I have my 'lack of unreasons'.

So what do we do now?

We take a trip. We leave our safe little world behind. We spend every moment of our lives daring the world to give us a reason not to keep going. And when it does, we pick ourselves back up and spit in it's face. That's not enough of a reason not to live. Not to rage.

Are you really telling me that if someone told you that this was all there was, that you would be forced to conclude that there is no reason to keep going? If this is all there is, isn't that even more reason to keep going?

Where Do You Even Begin?

I've been thinking a lot recently, about all the things I haven't thought about in a long, long time. Things that make me wonder if I'm all thought, and no action.

You see it's not that I feel pulled. I know what that feels like. This is not it. This is, well, what is this? It's apathy, I suppose, parading as a lack of empathy- which means it's not really pretending at all.

Che. Tutu. These names swirl around in my head like a problem waiting to be solved. Where do you even begin to solve a problem that never began?

It's so difficult because, of course, we were always part of the problem. How can we fight against suffering if disorder is mother nature's way? Gravity will only let you rise so high. Electricity will only let the light burn so long. Your heart will only let you love so much.

So why try at all?

It's a subtley ill-formed question. It supposes there is a something, a reason.

What about the question: Why not?

Have we any reason to believe we shouldn't continue on with this life? That we shouldn't give all abandonment to loving, and raging against all that suffering in the world?

You keep telling me that your God gives you answers. Reasons. And that is fine. No doubt he/she does. And why should those answers be any better? Why should those reasons be any less subject to doubt?

I don't need a reason to live, I need a reason not to live. I need a reason not to love. I need a reason not to laugh. I need a reason not to wonder what the world would be like if people hurt just a little bit less.

Go ahead. Give me a reason. But you don't have one do you? Because you believe in all those 'reasons' you've already told me. Damn, ain't that a quandry. If you tell me I don't have any reason to live, you are negating those very reasons you hold so tightly to. So you have your reasons, and I have my 'lack of unreasons'.

So what do we do now?

We take a trip. We leave our safe little world behind. We spend every moment of our lives daring the world to give us a reason not to keep going. And when it does, we pick ourselves back up and spit in it's face. That's not enough of a reason not to live. Not to rage.

Are you really telling me that if someone told you that this was all there was, that you would be forced to conclude that there is no reason to keep going? If this is all there is, isn't that even more reason to keep going?

A shout out to a worm named Wilbert...

So I've been getting all sorts of comments on my 'hero complex' entry, which I wrote who knows how long ago. Sometimes I think that blogging is silly. It's just a bunch of people who love to hear themselves write. I should know, I've always been one of those people, long before blogging was the fad, it's just that I never had an outlet before now.

Yes, some days I think I should chuck my laptop into the ocean (which is much farther now that I'm up at Penn State), and get down to what really matters: connecting with people.

And then I get some comments on this entry and it occurs to me... I'm making connections without even realizing it. Something I wrote echoed the thoughts of some people who knows where around this world.

It's as if the world just became a little bit more conscious of itself. Not because of anything special about me, it's just what happens. In our conversations. Our interactions. Smiles, nods, hugs, philosophical waxings. We make connections. Like neurons in a brain. And somewhere, 'out there', I feel like the universe is growing a bit. Making room for a relationship that wasn't there before.

I always say that I think the most important thing in the world is making sure nobody is alone. Suffering is inevitable, but is feeling truly alone?

When you read somewhere that you share a thought with someone that you never knew you had in common with anyone, it resonates somewhere real nice. Almost a warm sort of fuzzy feeling.

So for anyone who's been down and feeling like their blog has no power to connect them to anyone... be patient. You are sending out waves into an electromagnetic ocean. The ripples are bound to be felt by someone.

So blog on world, and go check out this guy's blog, because he loves Smallville just like me.

feedwilbert.blogspot.com

Damn, I guess I just can't resist the sound of my own thoughts being poured out for the masses.

You may not realize it now, world, but you are better off for it.

A World In Motion...

We have so much to learn about our world. I have so much to learn about our world. I had some insight into my own little world today.

We live in a world that is in constant motion. Constant flux. Everything is changing in one way or another. Nothing is staying still for very long, if you look at it on the right timescale. And yet as human beings we spend so much time trying to nail things down.

The world was never meant to be nailed down. It was never meant to be 'saved' or 'perfect' or anything else we can imagine with our horribly misinformed 'snapshot' model of the world. If you change something here, something else will be altered. One of the most fundamental principles of quantum mechanics is that you can't know both the speed and location of a particle at one moment. For the second you measure one of these things, you've changed the other by simply interacting with it.

You were never meant to know what it looks like in your fridge when the light goes off.

Now physics still shows us a world full of patterns, which happen time and time again. Society operates in similar ways.

But you cannot freeze it. You cannot stop it from evolving, changing, rearranging. You can only embrace it where it is, and nudge it a bit this way or that way.

So fight for change. Wrestle with every last ounce of energy, until God himself must cheat to bring you down. Just know when it's all said and done, you cannot fight against the world and win. She is too smart for you. She knows you much better than you know yourself.

The irony is that those who struggle most, whose pain is far greater than many of us will ever know, realized this a long time ago.

Like a poor man's superman we dig our heels into the track to slow a train which cannot be stopped.

Life and death will be exchanged like chips between God and the Devil. There's no telling how much time we'll have on this table.

Don't you see that the point was never to rid ourselves of all the pain? It was simply share it, as we so easily share everything else: our laughter, our pride.

How can we appreciate any of this more than when we come to terms with the truth about how fleeting our moments are?

We spend so much time trying to explain to ourselves why we should help, hold, and love...but the truth is, it's all we know in the end. Sometimes we fool ourselves momentarily, sometimes for years. But we always know the place we feel most comfortable, if only we take a chance to be honest with ourselves.

If only we understood what it was to live life to the fullest, in the company of so many. Sitting beside them in their hardest moments. If only we understood how much comfort there is in letting go of our safety.

In the end we are not alone. We are all together.

In any case, no one is going to be able to convince me otherwise.

The big 'O'...

No, it's not what you think. Come on, grow up. Why in the world would I post about THAT?

No, no. I'm talking about 'originality'. The INTP's best friend.

Everything in me is hell bent on being original. I guess it's an egotism of sorts. I want to distinguish myself. I want that equation, or theorem, or 'way of life' named after me. Like Einstein, or Jesus.

The truth is, there's not much that one can be truly original about. What's the old saying, 'standing on the shoulders of giants'? Einstein had Minkowski (the guy who developed much of the mathematical framework for part of his theory of relativity). Jesus had all the other prophets who had come before him.

Originality is about as elusive it gets. You search for it. You think you've found it. But the moment you make some connection with this new idea and the old ones, you have suddenly lost it. If it can be understood in terms of the old ideas, how can it really be anything new?

Every interesting and unique idea that comes into my head eventually leaves, the result of an obsession with some 'purity' of thought.

What ever came from nothing? The physicists think it was a previous universe. The theolgians think it was God. Neither really seems to advocate a lack of something before. Something from nothing is usually just a semantical game they play. Book keeping.

No, I suppose we could never really even come into contact with something that was truly original. Something wholly different. How could we see it, hear it, touch it?

Maybe, just maybe, that something IS God. Or maybe it is a good enough substitute.

Perhaps there is the universe, and then there is 'not the universe'. It's not nothing. It's something, but something wholly different.

Is it divine? It is good? I don't know. That's sort of the point of this digression.

I know, it's a strange and abstract way to think about the world, or what is beyond it. But maybe it's necessary.

We speak of a divine mystery in the same breathe as we call God 'good', or 'humble'. What is so mysterious about these concepts? Shouldn't we speak of a divine mystery of which we can say absolutely nothing?

There is our world, the physical world, which we can learn about. Then there is a world that is something so completely different that there is no way for us to define it with our words. Even saying it 'is', might be a stretch.

And life is about the search for that thing about which we know nothing about. Every moment we are just on the cusp of touching it. Every moment it recedes farther away from us.

The theologians say we know about 'it'. It is God, or gods, and they are good, bad and ugly. Like us (coincidentally). The materialists tell us we are all there is. 'It' is an illusion, fitting somewhere into our evolutionary design. Therefore it serves no real purpose.

After all, there is no sense in speculating about things which we cannot know, which can never be learned.

But I say the fact that we know nothing about it makes it no less important to our lives than all of the things we do know.

We are not enlightened. There is nothing new under the sun. Men and women have been hunting, gathering, and procreating for 100,000 years now. They have developed laws and social norms and been happy and sad. Celebrations, wars, and everything in between.

But it doesn't matter. We are all still waiting for that contact with that 'divine mystery', be it in the form of a personal savior or the equation that will explain it all. We hope in spite of the fact that there is no reason to believe that tomorrow will be any different from today.

I'm going to press on. I'm going to look at every turn for that truly original idea. The one that will change everything we know about this world.

I live in the anticipation that somehow the journey will make up for the fact that the destination is always somehow out of reach.

That transcendent moment...

There are times, like last night, when everything that you thought was so important, slips into the background. And thoughts of things you spend your life avoiding, are all that is left to contemplate. Last night RM got some bad news, about a friend from school who had died.

How do you study for finals, write that last paper, when it is so obvious that life was never meant to be about grades, or all the little things we preoccupy our time with?

Last night it occurred to me, that this is what I was missing. A constant reminder of that transcendent moment. A constant reminder of what is important in life.

That is what I miss about religion, at least practicing it (I won't go so far as to say I've lost my religion): the constant re-awakening to the moment that is so much larger than your office, home, school, town, or even country.

The only way to find those moments, are to look for them. And in a world where it's easy to get lost looking for a million other things, it's most helpful I think to find yourself in a culture that is looking for the same things. So when you bump into eachother, you can say, 'hey, what were we looking for again? Ah yes, the transcendent moment!'.

So I've decided I'm on a quest. A journey to find people, like myself, who are offended by much of what passes for 'love' in religion, yet who also know that if God exists in any sense, there must be some people who are going about searching for him in a healthier way.

Will I find those people in 'church'? In 'synogogue'? In a mosque? In Tibet?

I don't know yet. But I sure as hell ain't going to find out unless I get my ass out there and start looking.

And in the meantime, I'll keep trying to remind myself to stop and live in that 'moment'.