080402

I've been thinking about convergence, in the sense that everything putters along in life but all of a sudden, you start noticing patterns and repetitions and mundane things gain a sense of importance because of their juxtaposition with other things. It started with emails and Proust and how can I get writing again and has continued with Lovelock and climate change and what can I do about that. I am not sure I believe in cosmic karmic fate. I know I don't believe in a higher power and so I don't think anything is directing me. And I certainly don't believe in Determinism. What I do believe is that it's a natural survival function of the brain to see patterns in things and we humans love to attribute meaning to everything. So maybe I am seeing patterns because I want to see patterns because I want to make a change in my life. That's certainly duller than the nice fiction that I am meant to be or to do. But I am nothing if not dull at times. Or shall I say "overly earnest" or a stickler for truth.

It is interesting that someone who is slavishly devoted to the truth at all costs, also loves complete fiction like time travel and The X-Files. Can I find meaning or direction in this observation? Or is it just the way things are?

Since I gave a midterm exam today (and wrote an exam as a student last Sunday), I am also thinking about effort and how we rarely if ever give 100% effort into anything. We hold back a reserve for emergencies or for when it "really matters". But when is that? Intellectually, I know that the only life we can live is the one that is happening right this moment. But I also know the odds are pretty good that I'll still be living a few moments from now and so I futurize - "I'll do that after I lose 10 pounds, or after I get that job, or after I win the lotto". Am I afraid that if I don't wait, if I do everything "now", there won't be anything left for later? That's pretty silly. So I conclude that it's fear of failure that holds me back. And now that I've expressed that out loud, I've got nothing left to hide behind. I think.