Preoccupation

The overwhelming majority of people become so preoccupied with their day-to-day existence that they never stop to consider what it is all about. It helps if you aren’t in a stressful difficult situation maybe with money concerns or having to care for people in poor health. Then we have a myriad of distractions where we can’t even use the toilet without something to read or play with. This is not a major issue as the ignorance paradox takes in people that explore, people that ignore, people that shy away from difficult subjects, all people, and the only difference between one that thinks they know more is a bit of smugness. In other words, in makes not one jot of difference how much you know at the final reckoning. People living in so-called ignorance can be as happy as anyone else and be as fulfilled as the next man. Where do you draw the line. How much knowledge is enough? Ignorance of the facts, ignorance due to a lack of understanding and ignorance less to do with stupidity but not even knowing what you don’t know. Many live a whole life in hardship never discovering the riches close to hand.

We all know we can’t take our wealth with us, but some might be glad to leave any debts behind. Many build a tomb and have their treasure buried with them spiting those that could have made use of it. When you die, your skills, knowledge and years of learning evaporate. All that mastery and structure of your soul is no more. That is the real loss.

Did you make a contribution? Was it one that nobody else could have managed. Was it one nobody would have made at some point. Will the world stop when you do, or will it carry on quite fine without you? Will you be missed? Maybe briefly and you come to the fore in a few people’s mind from time to time until they pass away too. Empires that you build crumble, often soon after you die, if not soon after then at some stage later on. The changes you made get changed again and all traces of you gets gradually wiped away to leave not much more than a name in a register or footnote in history.

It is not uncommon for some to initially proclaim that they are going to change the world. Then lower their sights on making a big difference to their country. As time passes this gets reduced to a more realistic aim of making a small mark on their immediate locality. From aspiring to rid the world of all diseases to making plans to repair a leaking roof on the village hall.

Believe me when I say that one big achievement you can be pleased about is to get through to the end unscathed. To avoid being stabbed, shot, injured, or debilitated by the plethora of dangers. To be left unscarred by the losses of loved ones especially those that you were helpless to help is a big thing. It only takes one tiny body part, a gland, valve, a seemingly insignificant bit of your anatomy to go awry changing an outlook from heavenly to hellish in an instant.

The optimism of finding a definitive explanation for matters of life and living fade over one’s lifetime. So much ends with a conclusion that wasn't quite what was hoped for. You begin to see that nothing much is definitive. Nothing we do is always correct and just. There are multiple ways of tacking problems. None of which are perfect. We need to determine what to do in each scenario taking more into account that we can accommodate. Each judgement has to be made in context, and nothing is quite as simple as we first thought. The early bird catches the worm, hence a worm does well to have a lie in. Writing this heap of words is like a policeman hunting a suspect for years on end, to finally find out that the culprit has died long ago. Never getting the chance to apprehend nor comprehend the waste of effort. All the policeman really set out to do was change a few neurons in their head. Case open to case closed.

Not only are these words futile in what they aimed to point out, but when it came to use them as a guiding force they failed miserably. Luck can play a bigger part than knowledge. I concede that knowing what ought to be the best way to play the game didn’t always help. Knowing how and being able is quite different. It takes skill to apply knowledge. It takes practice to apply knowledge skilfully. You don’t always get enough tries at it. Sometimes we can dream, but a dream is all it will ever be.

There is a vain hope that when it ends you will be given the answers. All will be revealed. If only that were so. Those whose mind has deteriorated by disease will surely have their memories fully restored so they too will get their vindication. You will be proven correct and only small details of where you erred will be filled in. The only blunder is having this belief. As the whiteness turns to dark you will not even be conscious of you own expiration. Another precious life completed. The world is no more as far as you are concerned. You die every night in effect, but this time there will be no exciting beautiful fun unreal real dreams as an interlude. If you perish in a big calamity, blown up, smashed to pulp in an instant you won’t even get the last wonderful ride, the hallucinogenic peace making dreamy last few minutes of ultimate bliss.

Whilst some readers will be in fine fettle and have the strength to partake in many exciting fun things, there comes a day when you realise that you won’t do x ever again. No rampant sex, no riding a motorcycle, no whatever. So sad, so unsteady on your feet unable to perform basic things. No more climbing up ladders. This brings me to peak you. When was that? Peak beauty is in the eye of the beholder but when did the eyeing up as you passed someone in the street start and when did it tail off? When were you in peak athletic shape? When were you at your most knowledgeable? Lots of facts and figures are there to be accumulated to get to peak knowledge. After that, slowly but surely various memories drain away. You get to the point where you can’t even get the right word out for something commonplace. Death occurs in pieces. Bits of you die. Sometimes new green shoots appear though, giving you hope and false confidence. When were you, will you be, at your most skilful? You can retain your sharpness in some skills to the day you flop. It all depends on the skill and how much the increase in frailty hampers things. You are what you eat, you are how you behave, you are what you remember. You are what you can do. It is difficult to pinpoint when the zenith of your life is, the point when you are fully you. Fuzzy is the word to describe periods where you are most complete. Don’t dismiss this. You were a sperm and an egg, a baby, a toddler, a child and so on. You were never the same. Not ever. You are a body in transit and transition. Maybe your name remains the only constant.

You might even start to think that at least today is another day closer to the day you will no longer worry about anything anymore whatsoever. Unless today is the day you decide to improve your fitness, eat better, adjust risks and push the day of doom further away. Some may goad you to plant a garden or convince you that you ought to learn how to make fancy bread. I wanted to give something back to the earth upon which I came so I bought many segments of land which I left alone. Nature has managed just fine for hundreds of thousands of years. I felt that these lands can prosper without any intervention. In a small but not inconsequential way it deducts from the overall sufferance and displacement effect of our individual existence. Will that be forever though. I doubt it. Some cretin will deem it land to be forcefully acquired and used for something quite objectionable. Other rancid parasitic cockroaches will dump toxic crud on it to earn a miserable sum.

There is nothing mankind has done, not a single thing that has improved the planet’s overall ecosystem. We have been nothing but detrimental and destructive to the natural world. We have made no improvements to anything except enhancing our own way of life. Your dwelling occupies land where other animals can no longer squat nor nature subsume. The ecosystem will not pity your demise. The ecosystem will be thankful for it. There will be more to go around. This is not a call to action, but a statement of truth. It will get far worse until breaking point.

Those true atoms that built structure using simple inherent rules derived from simple whole numbers created this dog-eat-dog universe. Bacteria eat flesh and fauna, birds swallow insects whole and humans rise at dawn to be spiteful and generally unkind. Sometimes, on a few rare occasions they are nice. Nice without being paid for their niceness. Nice in the co-considerational way, helping and willing others to succeed rather than hoping they fail. If you make a friend by cutting through your prior prejudice, sit together and soon after the sun sets you will spot the first star, then the next, then quite a few, each sending a beacon of existentialism.

People may stare at the stars and wonder at our insignificance, whereas others will have no such interest. They may deem subjects like astronomy as really dull and irrelevant. The whys and wherefores of existence have no relevance to what they are doing. You may wish to explore avenues of thought, but others won’t, they ‘have’ to get up in the morning and go to work. They have more pressing things on their mind that ‘must’ get done. The trap, the illusion, the compulsion to conform, the urge to fit in, the need, the greed, the want for more, the guilt, the toil, the fun, the pleasure. We will be doing it for ever and ever until the day we realise, our time is now, is no longer.

Many people are looking for the meaning of life without realising that there is none. Some will treasure the connections with one another, friendships, kinships, relationships, and shared experiences and see that as the most immutable important currency. If you were hoping for a happy ending or some guidance as to what to do, here you will be disappointed. The ignorance paradox doesn’t tell you what you should do, there is no lesson to be learnt it is just a feature of life. And if you should be confused or fail to get the riddle just re-read the beginning and once a few pages in again, you will see it no doubt. Any downheartedness turns to an uplifting sense of freedom. Maybe, but then why bother, we already have our own personal worthy aims.

Great but not impressed say you. It is a correct observation to see anyone challenging you as a type that is just pretentious. Nothing more than crystallising stuff we already half know. Some will blithely say, “I could have thought of that”. Except you didn’t and wouldn’t unless it was fired at you. What has been laid out here might seem obvious now, but you haven’t the courage to admit that it was not at all obvious before.

Your problem is that you have not got a problem, that is what it seems. Neither a stumbling block nor self-doubt. You have day-to-day issues and mountains of things to contend with, problems of sorts, but your life is running swimmingly. You retain the idea of heading towards a day where you have even greater self-esteem. To be even more revered. In fact, you think of yourself as the wise one, the one people come to for help and a leg up. Scores to settle, points to prove with your peers, people nearly as rich or with more wealth, people with more influence or greater notoriety. The great guru the one who saw through the mess and picked wisely. The top chump who looks at the zookeeper with disdain. Everything will be done at a time of my choosing. Everything is in control. I will work out what, when and to whom I will give my assets away. My life is sorted. The sleepwalker. Zookeepers know they themselves are not superior. They aren’t looking down their nose at others. They are not laughing at the rest. They are not trying to change people, but they do like to instil some self-doubt in those around them.

Maybe it is me that has all these daft conjectures and everyone else is going along just fine. Nope, there are funerals every day, people retiring, people changing direction after pursuing schemes for ages. Let's not rock the boat and stop challenging people.

We see those that are sleepwalking, those that dabble a bit, plenty that plan their life, many self-assured, the completely uninterested and all those that are a mix of all these. Some will find meaning in life through what they are doing, but some are adamant that there is no ultimate meaning whatsoever. The thing that bothered me the most was how to justify saying that there is no meaning to life. How to put it into perspective?

We have those that are totally sure they are doing what they should be and will be making sure everyone else is following too. They are the ones lots of people look up to for reassurance that they are on the right path. The similarity to these groups of people and an ant colony is remarkable. There will be soldier ants on hand to guard against invaders, but also to keep the worker ants in check. Any ant that deviates from doing as they are told is quashed. Some will be inspired by the group effort seeing it for the good of all. However, our struggle is largely for the benefit of the bourgeois - headed by the king master ant.

The dabblers explore quite a lot. They feel semi-satisfied that on aggregate they have lived a virtuous life. They need not worry about political or social problems that are too complex and too numerous. Plus, there is no point fussing day and night over things that are out of their control anyway. They meddle with a few bits and pieces to ‘expand their horizons’. With a little bit of charity work and some community involvement they are quite content.

The planners find an objective and do what is necessary to achieve it. They will have their long-term goals and set themselves a few side tasks. Getting to where they want to be is what it is all about for them. A university qualification, job upgrade, better house, faster car and or developing an item or system that will transform life as we know it. It is all part of the distraction technique of being busy enough to feel it is unnecessary to consider deep meanings. Those that are the most occupied are the least interested in the underlying why.

Maybe we could live more in the moment. Yet why shy away from being nostalgic from time to time? It is also enjoyable looking forward to things in the future. We can have balance. An equitable portion of all three. Now, then, soon. All are good.

It is all about degrees, degrees of merit. A dog can be fairly content with its lot. They don’t have the pressure of dog school and all the exams at the end of it, although some do get house trained and learn a few tricks. Any dog that goes on regular walks, has a balanced diet, and receives love and attention is seen as getting a fulfilling life. Lower down the scale we could point to a mouse. It will have a great time running up and down the pipes in your home and live a while before running out of steam. Does it have meaning in its short life with its heart beating many times quicker than yours.

Standing beside a stream I watched an insect swoop down to get a drink. It got caught up in the flow. As it meandered down heading towards a stick, I was expecting it to grab onto it, get out and dry off before flying away. It was swirled about by the eddies and arrived near the bit of wood. So close but not close enough. In a near silent floosh it was gobbled by a crafty fish lying in wait for passing fodder. What meaning did that insect have in its life? Pare down to the bacteria and you get living things with ever shorter life cycles. We as humans propose that because we are much more advanced, that there must be more to life than being born, fidgeting about a bit, then succumbing to some illness or dying in an accident. Having a greater thinking capacity gives us the illusion and delusion of being more than the dog, mouse, bacterium, and lump of wood.

I look at some people and wonder what makes them tick. I know the drives now, but to see an old codger, senile, plodding at a snail’s pace on a mission to fetch a simple loaf of bread with day after day of aimless aims, what am I not seeing? Their close cousin is the retard. Slow in mind, fast in unusual body movements with a gurning grin and docile manner. The fruitlessness of their life makes us look the other way. Painted nails and plastic fantastic, fake, fudged, and self-consumed is thee that lays upon a cheap bed in the sun. Catering for this lovely one is the eternal slave. She saunters along to open up and get things ready once again. She knows it is futile to even imagine anything more. The prim and proper, all tidy and discreet getting made up for another big event. To others it is an excuse to have a drink and be merry, for these it is a chance to demonstrate their class. A class act in a class of impressers. Who is here, who has been de-ranked and who has been up to no good in the eyes of those that make the rules.

Some haven’t the gumption nor the skills required to be rich, and posh, and vain to sneer at the lowly underdogs. They decide to take one-upmanship down to the lowest point possible. They become anti-materialists. The think they have seen the light and will exist in a better way than the crowd. A darkness will fall on certain souls and take away their spirit. Who the hell do they think they are. I get paid thirty pieces of silver each week, five of which are taken by tax collectors. Are you saying to me that owning or renting an abode is materialistic? Do you want me to live on the streets or in the woods. Must I suffer to be superior. Must I live in a cage within a cell along with nine other brethren all breathing down one another’s neck. To save four pieces of silver a week, I must creep about the house so as not to disturb people. Must I wear cruddy coloured anti-fashion, anti-style, itchy twosh to confirm my ignorance. You do what you want to do, and I will do the same. The only difference between me and you, is that I will only judge you if you preach garbage and try to make me feel guilty for choosing for myself. I will spend five pieces of silver each week on a wholesome varied diet and not criticize nor say that your diet of oats, grog and wilted lettuce is materialistic and excessive. Indeed, my wife does indulge from time to time. She bought fancy floral curtains to hang in pride not shame. She could have stitched used refuse sacks together and welded the seams, but they would stink and make us desolate. Of the thirty pieces of silver left after spending to shower and keep warm we have three which are spent in a materialistic way. So, what. Some donate ten percent of their income to wealthy religious people. Spare silver enabled me to travel, to see different cultures and different scenes. That enriched us and is not materialistic even if I paid for the bed option during the journey. The anti-materialist is not even original. Lots have changed their job, cut their hours and traded money for time. Many of us could manage with less, that is true. However, be reasonable, most of what we spend has a rational practical basis. A nest, things to eat and drink and so on, things mentioned before that underpin happiness.

If you think the anti-materialist is judgmental, I pray you do not suffer the company of the nihilism shouter. They will make a rapid knee-jerk appraisal of your thoughts and propositions and state; that is nihilism. No, it is not. If you think that what you have read here is nihilistic, that is a shame. A pity. Never, mind. The paradox of ignorance right there. If you do not know what nihilism means that fine as you have no need to know. It is simply a word that implies someone is defeatist and pessimistic. If I pour some alcohol into a bottle of orange juice, the nihilism shouter thinks I am drinking orange juice. Just orange juice.

What then makes people tick aside from each having a different clock and different objectives in the time available. Not a lot. In a desert, we see a mirage and amble towards it. In life we think we see greater relevance in our life compared to others. It is so hard to shed the notion that we have a purpose and are on the way to achieving something that makes all the effort worthwhile.

Open a tap and fill a bowl with water then me, you, anyone can stare at the reflection and see that a life is as transient as that image. Tap the bowl and watch the shimmering, your waves of beavering, busy, idle interaction that alters but changes nothing in the end. Equally valid and equally worthless are we. Though I say again, never confuse feeling worthless with less worthy than someone else.

It is a name, a number, a mark in the sand with nothing tangible of us left behind. It is all one big con. Think, ponder, postulate for as long as you like until the light in your head goes out and the chemicals stop flowing. No more curiosity, no more reward and no more self.

Why bring people down to earth? Once an appreciation of the ultimate futility is understood and becomes a feature of a person’s core, they can then find a firmer ladder to climb. After which a product of utility for all might manifest itself. No That is a joke too. We are a fruit from the flower from the tree. We start underripe, become ripe, soften, wrinkle then rot and smell. We have a shelf-life – a sweet one.