too much and too little.

I was peeing this morning and thought to myself, if I removed every idea I've ever had, every opinion I've ever held, every story I've attached to myself, every trait I've used to identify my own uniqueness... If I took all of that away and was just left with this consciousness and body that still experiences every sensation, but attaches no meaning to anything at all, would I be left feeling closer to emptiness or wholeness? Or are they one and the same in that instance? Existentialism. Nihilism. Absurdism. I find myself bouncing around like a pinball between these three schools of thought. And sometimes I think, is this even fucking useful? To spend so much time and energy contemplating these things? Contemplating whether nothing exists except atoms and empty space. Or that man is nothing but what he makes of himself. Or that my current emotions are completely irrelevant, and that it's just a passing phenomena in this thing we call "reality". Or that opinion is the lowest form of human knowledge, and that empathy is what we should be seeking, so we can remove ourselves, our ego and what we think we know, to place ourselves entirely into the world of another. Another being who for all we know, could be just another part of you/us. Another part of your/our consciousness. 

At the moment I tend to identify with Absurdism. I can identify with the desperate need to find meaning in life. The desperate need to keep that feeling of emptiness at bay by filling my life with things that might temporarily allow me to forget the uncertainty. But that's just it, it's temporary. That feeling of wholeness is fleeting. Because regardless of how hard I try, the harsh reality that I'm seeking inherent value in something is part of my inability to accept the fact that no matter what I do, or how many books I read, or how many podcasts I listen to, or how much meditation I do, or how many YouTube lectures I watch, total certainty is impossible. We know too much and too little, and the conflict that brings is a realization that I attach meaning knowingly, and accept that I do so, and within that acceptance, I can take advantage of that knowledge and be almost defiant in my pursuit for meaning, even though I know there is none. 

I'm wary of shackling myself to any type of belief system. I never want to become so committed to a thought that I can no longer be objective. I think it's okay to say, "I'm an atheist right now" or "At the moment I believe in x, y, z." I tend to do that, and just identify that it is purely what's going on with me at this very second. And it could easily change. I could change. And I'm fine with that. Albert Camus wrote, "I'm filled with a desire for clarity and meaning within a world and condition that offers neither." I think that human condition is why we seek so much freedom. And we all deal with freedom differently. We deal with that sensation of being free, in hundreds of thousands of ways. Millions, perhaps. We want to escape from the innate desire of wanting and depending and expecting. I think deep down, we, or at least I, seek the freedom to relinquish the desire for wholeness. Which is ironic, because without that desire and without that knowledge, I wouldn't be seeking freedom in the first place. And if I'm not seeking freedom, what am I doing? What would I be thinking and feeling if I wasn't able to contemplate my existence and the universe and consciousness? Ignorance does seem like a seductive idea. I think it's appealing, when uncertainty brings so much exhaustion and I just want some relief and a chance to be quiet and distracted and numb. But I think ignorance is just an illusion. And it's tempting, like the sirens to Odysseus. But instead of hearing your future, you're hearing nothing at all. And deep down I know I don't want that. I know I want to hear things loudly. And feel things intensely. And deal with the absurdity and irony and lightness and darkness and ecstasy and suffering of life. To experience life in a way that I can embrace it fully, with an open heart and mind, and seek the meaning and pursue that wholeness, without the attachment to find any. Without the expectation or desire or dependency for an answer. Because I will never get it. And that's the absolute capital-T Truth. My choices from here to respond to being conscious of this fact vary widely. I can rebel, I can fall into a heap, I can kill myself (I'm not suicidal by the way--but it's just an example of what some people do), I can be kind, I can be angry, I can be loving, I can be anything and everything. And I can attach whatever meaning I like, and I can be empty and whole or I can just be. Life is the opposite of death. Life is you deciding what you want to do, before you potentially can't do anything ever again. Life is what you find important enough to feel, to experience, to give you the motivation and inspiration to move forward into the unknown, and to not kill yourself. And even then, life can just be movement. Just breathing. Just existing. Just not being dead. And you can seek meaning in that as well. "Sometimes, carrying on, just carrying on, is the superhuman achievement." Camus wrote that too. So I guess right now, I'm carrying on, seeking for meaning where there is none. And searching for freedom, and rebelling against the absurdity that is life, by simply existing. 

Franz von Stuck, 1920

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