We think that we are global, yet we’re not. We are restrained by the clutches of our ideals and boundaries that are ingrained in our way of thoughts and unspoken rules imposed by society. We embrace familiarity, and fail to associate ourselves with something we deem as different. We believe that our own ways are superior, as are our traditions, beliefs, and policies, and we are quick to retaliate and disapprove a different approach. We are quick to label rights and wrongs, and dictate them upon others.Why can’t we build tradition among newness and reshape our beliefs based on experience? Why can’t we accept an unfamiliar method that achieves the same results? I have learned that conflicts are abound in appeasing both old and new, ideals and reality.
Is there such a thing as perfection, a condition where one can’t find a fault with? If perfection was easily attained, then we would have flawless systems without bugs. There will be no concept of quality as we would have no awareness of mistakes. And everything would appear as absolutely perfect. There would be no right and there would be no wrong. There would be just one entirety; an absoluteness which we can’t find fault with. Unfortunately, perfection is just a state of mind and almost impossible to realize in reality.
I like to revisit the topic of uncertainty like a favorite pastime. Sometimes I drink a toast to the excitement it brings, other times I brood at its power to dictate our lives. Uncertainty is embedded in the clockworks of the universe; it governs every aspects of our lives and we attempt to make sense of and tame it by quantifying it. It’s the reason why we get to flip coins, assign a risk to everything we do, and still make bad choices. Or, umm, good choices, but of course you won’t know till that uncertainty unveils itself.
Death makes us human. I heard about death twice today, the first time when a colleague said that her father-in-law just passed away, and the second time when a friend of my deceased childhood friend asked about her burial whereabouts. To the first, I could only ask about how old he was and to the latter, I replied as-a-matter-of-factly that she was cremated and her ashes kept at a church, not buried. It was as if death was a measure of time and location, no more no less. Death tags us with a fixed time and location, as if we are parcels to be delivered to a destination, and as if it’s inviting us to a welcoming party at that hour and place.
Just like water, we never cease changing. We are defined by the experiences that fill our once blank slates, which are in turn embodied by our characters and unique personalities. Making sense of the world in countless ways, we learn and unlearn, fall and move on, unavoidably losing parts of ourselves while gaining new fragments along this uphill journey. As we gain in wisdom and years, our simplicity and youth is lost. As we grow in wealth, we lose the time spent on accumulating it. So it has been written–nothing lost, nothing gained–and that’s how it’s going to be until the end.
Each time I walk in the vicinity of my home, I keep my fingers crossed that I wouldn’t be as unfortunate as to step on snails or even catch sight of one. But probability and chances prevail in our daily bouts and sure enough I was greeted by my childhood arch-enemy this morning, leaving a slimy trail as it slugged across the footpath. Overwhelmed by disgust and a tinge of fear, I stopped dead in my tracks, allowing the nauseous spell to pass. For many seconds I stood still, eyes locked with the huge creature whose existence has successfully dictate my mind and reduce me to useless crumbs smaller than it is.
Our propensity to see significance and pattern in coincidence, whether or not there is any real significance there, is part of a general tendency to seek patterns. – Richard Dawkins, Unweaving the Rainbow
I am drawn towards the number 54 and my eyes linger at every instance of this seemingly random and trivial occurrence. Even though the probability is 1 in 100, which translates to quite a high likelihood, I savor and delight in what I perceive to be nature’s constant reminder of unsolved riddles of the universe, where coincidences are just waiting to happen the number of possibilities is infinite. Indeed, I seek comfort in patterns woven into the random tapestry of life, and every instance of 54 seem to indicate that everything will be just fine.
Does anybody know what time it is? – Chicago
Your “now” is not my “now” – Charles Lamb, 1817
Time is just like another direction in space – Stephen Hawking, 1990
What I’m really interested in is whether God could have made the world in a
different way; that is, whether the necessity of logical simplicity leaves any
freedom at all. – Albert Einstein
We could imagine a world in which causality does not lead to a consistent order of
earlier and later. In such a world the past and the future would not be irrevocably
separated, but could come together in the same present. And we could meet our
former selves of several years ago and talk to them. However, it is an empirical
fact that our world is not this type. Time order reflects the casual order of the
Universe. – Hans Reichenbach, The Rise of Scientific Philosophy, 1951
What then is time? If someone asks me, I know. If I wish to explain it to someone
who asks, I know not. – Aurelius Augustinus, Bishop of Hippo in N. Africa
Neither past nor future can be changed, they could only be discovered.
-Paul Anderson, Past Times
How can the past and future be when the past no longer is and the future is not yet?
As for the present, if it were always the present and never moved on to become the
past, it would not be time but eternity. – Augustine
You are so part of the world that your slightest action contributes to its reality.
Your breath changes the atmosphere. Your encounters with others alter the fabrics
of their lives, and the lives of those who come in contact with them.
- Jane Roberts
What are opinions but thoughts of one’s own to be shared but at times best kept at heart. Those who speak too much of their own are deemed contentious but too little makes one appear detached.
Opinions formed into words have the ability to offend if not cautiously kept at bay. However, we have no claim to be annoyed if the opinion attempts to correct our wrong actions. But corrosive opinions which do little to help are better off disregarded.
Take away these opinions then, and resolve to dismiss thy judgment about an act as if it were something grievous, and thy anger is gone. – Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 11, No. 18
In other words, let opinions be taken away, and nobody will think themselves wronged. If nobody shall think themselves wronged, then wrongness cease to exist. The emperor-philosopher Marcus Aurelius suggested that when you feel exasperated and out of patience, be reminded that “this mortal life endures but a moment; it will not be long before we shall one and all have been laid to rest”. What a gloomy thought to carry around!
On the way out of my apartment grounds this morning, I almost collided with a yellow caterpillar marked by black stripes hanging finely by a thread, causing me to pause in my tracks and rivet my eyes on it for what seems to be seconds too long. What nerve does it have to block and dominate the field path, I thought, revolted. I was appalled by the thought that this mere creature has successfully intimidated me and caused me to waiver, such that i was figuring a way to bypass it without touching it at all (mind you, the track may be narrow but the field is huge), not because I was concerned about ruining its chances on becoming a butterfly, but because I was simply repelled by it.
While taking a little detour around the caterpillar, i muttered “That is so disgusting!” involuntarily, feeling a pang of guilt right after the words escaped from my mouth. Now, what nerve do I have to label the works of nature as disgusting?