Good day today, interacting with others. A young friend, wise beyond her years, visits and we spend time discussing the ways of human nature. But how can I assure her of anything, of any of the worth and knowledge that comes in the decades of difference in time lived between us, when I am floundering myself in my dedications and convictions of the goodness of mankind? When I am shocked by revelations that question all I believed?
And a conversation with a customer, where one horror story told leads to another. I don’t want to hear that there are more occurrences, more people like this in the world. I rather believe that my sister is instead an anomaly, something that is not common to man. Misery does not love company. I want to believe that I’m the only one this is happening to; that these things do not happen often because it’s mind-boggling to think that they do. I want to think that there are just quirks here and there that turn good men evil. And that true evil does not exist.
And I learn to go quietly alone into the darkness and find a way to keep the torch lit to seek what understanding and then acceptance I can find. Telling, talking, commiserating, are all just the muses that are useless except as expressions and extensions of the problems. They do nothing to solve or alleviate. They are the stories, the poetics that the muses encourage when instead we must look elsewhere for reason and truth. This is what Boethius must learn again, and what I must study.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
Knowing little of philosphers and such, the one thing that is playing in my head now is this:
“Is that all there is, is that all there is?
If that’s all there is my friends, then let’s keep dancing.
Let’s break out the booze and have a ball.”
If i’ve learned anything, it’s that there are no great truths. Good and evil, pain and pleasure, light and dark… they are conjoined twins, impossible to separate.
Ugliness is large and demanding and makes it difficult to turn your eyes. Beauty leads a smaller life, is quiet and easy to overlook. The trick is to search out Beauty and turn it into music your heart can hear. Then perhaps sing your song to others.
Well, really, you’re already singing. You just can’t hear the music yet.
Anne, this advice and insight is well worthy of the likes of Boethius, and I believe that this is what Philosophy will reveal in part in her conversations. Thank you, you’ve done a world of good with this comment.
I don’t believe i’ve ever been accused of having insight before. What a treat! Have a wonderful weekend, Susan. Turn of your marvelous brain and go indulge in a bit of silliness or browse a shop unique. Last week, i bought a kazoo, aa wooden catch ball thingie and a hula-hoop. Can you say “hip replacement” boys and girls?