In my ongoing interest in understanding more fully what is, I’ve been thinking about Socrates’ admonition: ‘An unexamined life is not worth living.’ What I think he must mean is one should continue to question. Not in the sense of total skepticism but with the understanding things change: situations, contexts, nuances offer new perspectives on commonly and generally held beliefs. And, new perspectives can lead to renewed energy and enthusiasm, adding dimensions to what I may have previously seen as pretty one-dimensional.

But, I suppose, at the same time questioning too vigorously may very well lead to profound uncertainties which will lead some who would prefer to just latch onto the Truth and leave it at that to lock up the box within which their knowledge is kept.

I guess those with such a mindset may be driven by an innate fear of the unknown, those for whom the terror of living is so overwhelming that they seek certainty at all costs, grasping with white-knuckled ferocity at dogmatic beliefs and limiting their community to others of similar ilk while denouncing those who don’t share their view, becoming pseudo-tribal as it were. And, by assuming such a stance, securely locking up the box of their understanding, distorted as it must be, resigning their conception of existence to remain in stasis until the farm is purchased.

Maybe it all comes down to intellectual capacity, and, as arrogant as that may sound, those of expansive vision, while less sure of ultimate outcomes, must surely lead a fuller, deeper consciousness, energized by the plethora of possibilities such an openness offers.

So, I guess I have to decide whether to live contentedly and securely if a bit unimaginatively inside the box or to break down the walls and revel in the uncertainty of infinite possibility. Such a decision, for me, is pretty easy to make.

Either/Or

In my ongoing interest in getting a handle on religious faith and practices I’ve been researching the concept of transubstantiation. It appears church fathers have debated the idea of the magical change from wine and bread to blood and flesh for centuries in an attempt to convey legitimacy to the literal acceptance of Biblical metonymy. There have been council’s discussions and disagreements as to what Jesus actually meant when he told the disciples, “this is my blood”, etc. Since he was standing there holding a glass of wine and wasn’t apparently bleeding makes me wonder what all the uproar has been about after all this time.

I guess the acceptance of magic is key in such a debate. You know, all things are possible with God. The issue as well as many other doctrinal beliefs appears to depend on just such a faithful acceptance, which pretty much leaves logical understanding out in the cold.

Not that all that is, or could be, should necessarily fall within the bounds of my understanding. I do appreciate a regular dose of curiosity and wonder at the workings of the natural world and the people in it. There will, I’m sure, always be experiences beyond my conceptual abilities. But I do have to wonder if too much belief in magic might not be a bad thing for humankind after all. You know, if it relieves people from the responsibility of trying to understand and do something about the multitude of problems in the world, which, I fear, will be the case for those magical thinkers looking forward to a next life.

But, I suppose most people temper their acceptance of magical occurrences beyond the fantasies they tell themselves, the soundness of lottery participation, that the stranger on the phone isn’t going to ask for money. Nevertheless, it does appear self-deception may be the one commonality we all share.

I’ve, lately, been trying to understand what it means to have team spirit. You probably think, seeing as I have myriad doppelgangers, I should know what it means to be part of a team. But, just because I’m one of a multitude of nearly identical molded plastic dolls doesn’t mean there’s team spirit involved.

Honestly, the concept mystifies me; there are sports teams made up of groups of fiercely competitive individuals that would vie against one another under normal circumstances, expected to cooperate in order to fulfill team goals. Where’s the personal expression in that, I’d like to know. Then, there are communist collectives where individuals pull together for the supposed betterment of all. That must require a sort of team spirit. I’ll bet if a field worker decided to take an afternoon off to write poetry it wouldn’t go down well with his colleagues. The uncertainty of life on the streets might encourage gang affiliations, I suppose, but it might very well draw you into other people’s conflicts which would clearly interfere with one’s contemplation time. And think about those in monasteries or convents that do have plenty of time to reflect but are certainly inhibited in any desire they may have to express themselves through fashionable clothing styles.

Well, I don’t see myself becoming a team player anytime soon. The only possibility of that as far as I can imagine is if I were assimilated into the Borg collective. I understand that, in that case, resistance is futile.