I Was Alone, I Took A Ride

Lately, I've been running around all over this corner of the country, dealing with various paperwork things, medical issues, that sort of thing. In the process, I've rediscovered the meditative effect of travel time. When you're on public transit, and especially trains, there's a certain rhythm as the wheels move, as the seat bounces in time with the road or track. The landscape streams by, the sun moves across the sky, and you have a chance to focus on the scenery and reflect on life.

Yesterday, in particular, made something clear to me: my life is meaningless without understanding. Every day, I learn a little bit more about myself, and a little more about the world, and how I see my place in it. Above all, I need the freedom to explore, mentally, physically and metaphysically. If I can find people to explore with me, all to the better. If not, then I'm better off just striking my own path and relating what happens.

The ancients were on to the right idea when they declared that words have power. Not power in the superhero "I can now defy physics" sense or in the political sense, but rather power in the gnostic sense of things. To name a thing is to place a cognitive framework around it, to make the unknowable a bit more knowable. You make the previously uncharted reaches more accessible. That thrill of understanding is what I live for. This is why I want to study linguistics and cognitive science in greater detail. If we accept that words are the currency of knowledge, then I want to work in the mental mines, extracting pure understanding from the labyrinthine corridors of consciousness.

It all sounds a bit overly dramatic, I know. That doesn't change what I see as the fundamental truth of the matter. I'm on a journey of understanding, and whatever side-stops or detours I make, the ultimate goal remains the same.

Later, flipsiders.