Thursday, February 3, 2011

11

Life is a behemoth. In the quest to find meaning, oft we lose ourselves in it. In this, we are not wholly unlike those born blind: without semblance or idea or memory of light; of color; of sight. We grope around wildly, stumbling not in the dark, because darkness itself is an experience of sight, but in the void, were there truly is nothing. 

Why do I exist?

Is this not a question of and beyond the stars? Recall Pandora and her box - her tale does not lie. This is the curse of the human race: curiosity. The burning desire to know for the reason of knowing. A means and an end in itself. These four words, though few, is unwittingly the sum of the impetus behind every single human act since thought was first kindled: when it first came to know that it existed.  

But that was that: a rude awakening.

Imagine yourself waking up from the dousing of frigid water. Imagine waking halfway through a fall. Is your first thought not 'I am awake'? The chill and the free fall will eventually settle in. Their pace is unimportant, only their delay, their timing is. They are never the first to come, like sinister afterthoughts at the waning of deeds. As we come to realize the horrors of waking - the cold and endless descent - so too did the mind came to know despair. Its comfort in solitude came from the heart, whose existence was both unknown until then and was as hope was to Pandora: unlooked for, yet its virtue was as the blessed rain in the desert heat. And so the mind had a companion, and together, they birthed the soul, which was both and neither. A paradox in itself, and this is the paradox of the soul: that the quest for meaning in existence is fueled by our contemplation of our own non-existence.

Life is a behemoth. In the quest to find meaning, oft we lose ourselves in it. In this, we are not wholly unlike those born blind: without semblance or idea or memory of light; of color; of sight. We grope around wildly, stumbling not in the dark, because darkness itself is an experience of sight, but in the void, were there truly is nothing.

We bump around - into obstacles and into another person's arms, for good or for ill. There is no assurance of welcome. No promise of an embrace. No guarantee of peaceful rest under the shelter of another's shoulders. We're all blind seekers in a blind quest where mercy is a rare virtue. Rejection is a lethal twin-edged sword - one man's defense, another's offense. We're all blind seekers who end up trapped in mazes of our own weaving. We become the harbingers of our own undoing. 

We live in the land of the blind who hold on to hope in folly and in wisdom. We hold on to chance. We persevere. We hope. Hope it was that prevented us from getting consumed by despair then, and so it continues to now. 

No hope is futile, because hope in itself is an actualization of existence - it is strange, it is twisted, it is indifference to certain extents, but it is wholly valid still. A brief spell of a dream within the span of sleep.

Life is a behemoth, but oft is it in the little things that we find meaning: the shared smile between you and the person behind the counter you bought your food from; the 'thank you's' exchanged unexpectedly; the well wish of the elder you helped cross the road; the company of reunited friends; the good-feeling of teamwork between unlikely parties; a confession of love; a profession of faith; the unexpected hug from a father you rarely see; the surprise encouragement from the mother who almost always saw your worst first, for your own sake; the despair of the knowledge of your father's infidelity; the words of comfort from the unexpected friend; being on the receiving end of empathy - something you've forgotten after only giving it for quite some time; the oblivion of getting drunk; the catharsis from release; the ruefulness birthed by the hang-over; all. the. unexpected. things. It is in these stolen moments where we find that our quest still has hope, that the quest becomes seemingly less cruel. That kinder realities seem within reach.

In a way, we live for these moments: from one to another to the next, for with each spiel, is an affirmation and culmination of our souls and lives in part.

Life is measured by the moments that take our breaths away. 

8 comments:

  1. lol at the last sentence. :)

    pero yes, existentialist queries are often hard to deal with if we take them in their very totality. if we try to look at the bigger picture, and not be introspective of the little things that define our lives, our existence.

    beautiful words. :)

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  2. this is true, claudiopoi! they are hard to deal with, but ironically, they have a quaint serenity to them, no?

    and thank you :)

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  3. hi..im here to visit and follow you!![pls do the same also..thanks..

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  4. sabi nga ng isang kaibigan, dont move on...just move over! hehehehe

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  5. aww, that might work miracles. hahaha

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  6. yes, yes, quaint serenity to them. but sometimes, quaint serenities eventuate into sadness. profound sadness at that. mao nga lisod idemarcate sometimes ug bliss and solitude. :)

    anyway, am going to cebu next thursday. care for lunch or snacks or whatev? hehe. :D grabe ang segue. lol.

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  7. Wow. I know bloggers are always blowing smoke up other bloggers' asses, commenting so that they'll get a click back to their own page, but I genuinely enjoyed reading this.

    I'm sort of stuck in an extended period of what I like to call my existential inertia of ennui. (Or maybe this is just a malady of the unemployed, idk.) The search for meaning - it's exasperating. I've just about turned myself inside out looking for it...

    Anyways, I'm definitely clicking back here to read more of your philosophical musings.

    Greetings from Cebu. =) Waitaminute. You ARE in Cebu, I just realized from reading another post. Greetings from the South, then.

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  8. @claudiopoi: the lines can get blurred, yes, pero between serenity and profound sadness, I think it's more of a choice! :D

    And I'm sorry, I have a full schedule on Thursdays. :|

    @sitting pretty: hi! hi! this is true...trust me, I've experienced it recently. To save comment space, I suppose I shall write about it sometime!

    I don't think they're really that much of a philosiphical musing. Hahaha. I'd like to think of them as random stuff spawned by boredom.

    Thank you for visiting! :D

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