Large, Dopey Creatures on the Move

It’s perhaps an overly used movie for analogies, but The Matrix is pretty phenomenal as far as double (and triple and quadruple and…) meanings go. Looking beyond the grey metal pipes and cement floors and ceilings that have absolutely no color or beauty at all, the little world that they’ve managed to live in (the good guys) has always been the ideal world for me. For one, they can “learn” anything in an extremely short amount of time. Just sit in the chair, insert the plug, play the program, and WHAM! Instantly you know how to do anything. THAT is what I need. But another reason that I want to live in that kind of world, is because the people that live there know something that the rest of humanity doesn’t. They’ve figured the out system, and they’ve also figured out how to beat it. I think it’s from this constant desire to know everything and do everything right and move beyond current understanding that I love their world. I feel like I’m missing something in this life; that somehow I still have a shield over my face that is blocking enlightenment to the universe.

I realize that there is no such key; at least I haven’t heard of one that sounds remotely realistic. But somehow I have it subconsciously stored away that there is one, and I keep trying to find it. I want to understand theology and constitutional law and biology and chemistry. But really, I think I want to understand humanity more than anything else. I want to know why people work the way that they do; and not just society in general, but specific people. Why do you make the comments that you do? What has made what’s important to you, important? Why are you apparently an individual, and yet so obviously part of the larger race of humanity? This is what I want to know.

It seems that in order to understand something objectively, one has to be self-differentiated. But to do that all the time is impossible. We are always and continually connected with our past and with others. There is no escape; we continue to live in the “scars and ruts” of our lives, clinging to what we know, even though we also know that it only hurts us. Even if there was something called the matrix, we wouldn’t ever be able to figure it out, because not only do we not have red and blue pills to choose from; we’d be incapable of making them in the first place, because to make them requires previous knowledge, which we can’t have without first taking the pills. But fascinatingly enough, even though I hate being confined to anything, the idea of being perpetually stuck in curiosity and struggle isn’t such a bad thing. So I suppose we continue to tromp along, searching, and maybe hoping we’ll at least figure out the system of humanity someday. And in the process, being nothing but big, muddy trolls leaving craters in our circular path.

The Exhaustion of the Extremes

You know the magnetic emotion charts where you have 30 different faces of different emotions represented and there’s a blue “window” magnet that says “Today I Feel”, and you move it to encompass whatever particular mood you’re in? I’m not sure what I think about such charts.

I can see at least some good in these intriguing objects. Not only is it entertaining to try and pick out which mood I am in, but it really does seem that labeling things helps us in life. It’s amazing what simply saying that I’m smug at a particular moment can do. It puts my attitude and the situation at hand in some sort of perspective. But sometimes, A) I need to be irrational. I was talking with a friend of mine the other day and she made the very good and true point that sometimes, one (especially girls) just need to be irrational. And suffice it to say, “irrational” is not one of the moods listed. And B) My emotions generally do not conform with what is listed as an option.

This can mean one of a few things. 1) The chart is dysfunctional; 2) I’m an odd human being that doesn’t conform with this chart and therefore I just need to suck it up and deal; or 3) I can’t properly identify emotions. In these sorts of circumstances, I tend to opt for the first reason.

For instance, there is no “blah” face. Neither is there a “content” face. I can be hysterical, shocked, anxious, shy, or lovestruck, but I cannot be contemplative, blasé, or thoughtless. And being that my general state of being falls in and among those categories, I’m forced to lie to myself and say that I am enraged, ashamed, or disgusted.

Maybe that’s the problem with life and society today. We’re all held captive to the emotion charts. We are forced to live in the emotional extremes of life, which, let’s face it, is rather exhausting. So in the face of emotional trauma, what is there for one to do? Put the little window on “confused” and just accept your fate.

Hexagonally Frozen Water Vapor

So normally I attempt to write something at least partially witty and/or thoughtful (so ok, I haven't quite mastered that yet), but today was so exciting that it deserved its own kind of entry. Today, Luther Seminary shut down. Yes, at 3:00PM today, everything was cancelled THROUGH TOMORROW. It's my first snow day(s) in 5 years. It was fabulous. Glorious. Indescribably amazing. I got to play the piano, was part of a snowball fight, and I even helped to build this massive snowman outside our house...


And tomorrow? Tomorrow will be beyond description. It will be all Gospel and no Law.

Part of of the greatness of snow days is certainly the snow in and of itself. But what I'm really excited about is being able to sleep in, not having to do homework that was going to be crashing in on me tomorrow, and having a day where I can literally do nothing and feel good about it (the library's not even open, which honestly, is a very sad event). But it's the spontaneity of it, too. Inevitably, had I known that today and tomorrow were going to be days off, I would have filled them somehow. I would have put off working on something and scheduled to do that tomorrow. But now, I am actually free to do whatever. This sort of day is what all humans need, and I have been given it. Praises for the gift of nothingness.