Forgiveness

If we latch onto a rigid ideal of free will—that, despite all the chaos, uncertainty, and complexity of this world that we live in, we are all allocated equally difficult circumstances, that we have an equal response to those circumstances, that we all play under the same rules, and thus that we become equally capable actors to carry out our individual desires—forgiveness ceases to make any sense. 

Within such a perspective, how do we explain human difference? If we presume that we operate under completely fair and equal constraints, then why is it that we’re not all the same in nature? What is the true origin of benevolence or malevolence? If we predicate that we each chose to be different, then the question inevitably boils down to what made us choose one thing over another? Why does someone choose to do good over bad, or bad over good? In such a world, the logical conclusion would be that there must be some inherent energy within each of our spirits that predisposes us towards a certain path, and, at that point, we’ve come full circle, and proved that there is no real choice, and no true free will. 

True forgiveness is fundamentally an implicit understanding of these limitations that exist within our supposed free will. If we can agree that this rigid understanding of free will is even remotely flawed, to forgive is the only right thing to do, because the alternative is the complete and utter destruction of the fabric of humanity, mired in an unceasing cycle of antagonism and blame, of pride and obstinance, of guilt and shame. 

Gratitude

Be grateful.

The alternative? 

Needless misery and discontentment.

A farewell

I have no doubt that one momentous day, my heart will finally decide to break this years-long fast.

Amidst clouds of uncertainty, enveloped by shadows of the past, and faced with the daunting prospect of irreversible change, it will nevertheless begin an inexorable pursuit to satiate an insatiable desire—for love, for truth.

But my vow is this—no matter where this effulgent heart may lead me, there my mind will be at peace.

Always doubt yourself

If we honestly take some time to step back and look at it objectively, we may likely find that our intuitions have led us astray for important decisions in our lives far more times than they lead us onto a path to live a life we’re proud to live. It’s clear what our brain is trying to do when it shoves these mistakes of our intuition under the carpet with no hesitation, while also being the most credulous victim to confirmation bias.

Desperation

We may starve for truth, for clarity, for meaning, for purpose, and we may do everything in our power to attain it. 

But seldom is truth something that is waiting for us to do something to reveal itself, as if it was merely a lock awaiting a key; rather, it follows its own course. Sometimes, in the incomprehensible course of the universe, truth is not meant for us to seek nor to attain; sometimes, it just finds us, for whatever reason, and for whatever cause.

Natural and artificial

It may seem rational to justify the overly high standards of modern dating culture—the preemptive raising of “red flags,” absurd and arbitrary perfectionist demands in physical attractiveness, characterological traits, and for the entire dating process from start to finish to be free of discomfort or strife. Many still seem to justify it as natural, framing it as a cold calculation innately wired into our biology as a means of carrying out natural selection—to find the best possible partner for reproductive and generational success.

But all too often we forget that within our modern world, very few things we do are natural. There are a myriad of tendencies within our biology that are ultimately counterproductive to our success within a system that is inherently artificial. Natural selection simply doesn’t work the same way it used to; if one of the main purposes of society is to ensure the safety and prosperity of all its constituents, the implication of this is that the majority of those with seemingly undesirable traits can and will pass on such traits. 

We’ve already decided within the construct of society that basic human decency requires that we are patient with one another, that we help those that can be helped, that we build one another up even despite our deficiencies; we’ve decided that survival of the fittest isn’t an ethical strategy—that it isn’t acceptable to just leave homeless people to perish and rot on the streets; we’ve already decided that eugenics is wrong—that we shouldn’t kill off everyone that committed crime or those with a mental illness. If we can agree on this, why do we persist in our hypocrisy? Why are we shocked or aghast when we discover that someone has some degree of undesirable traits? Why do we suddenly turn a blind eye to our responsibility as human beings when it comes to choosing a romantic partner?

To fall

I haven’t fallen in love in a long time—just a little bit over three years, to be precise. Even though I’ve been incredibly diligent in honing my self-awareness and emotional maturity after all this time, I still don’t know. 

I just don’t know. 

At moments I still feel as though I’m still constantly on this verge of falling in love, still wavering on the same precipice, strewn with the scattered, lonely fragments of broken hearts and memories, equally harrowing and fond. And I feel as if my heart will inevitably end up tumbling down this cliff, and into the abyss of the unknown, devoid of reason, filled with mystery, lurking with terror, abounding in beauty. 

At any moment, for any reason, by any avenue, I foresee love.

Right to the beautiful part

Right to the heart of the matter

Right to the beautiful part

Illusions are painfully shattered

Right where discovery starts

In the secret wells of emotion

Buried deep in our hearts

— Rush - Emotion Detector (Neil Peart as lyricist)

In the midst of mind-numbing vapidity and inordinate amounts of gale-force nonsense that characterizes so many aspects of modern life, the temptation might be to retaliate by rushing into the things that impart a profound sense of fulfillment within us—the things that we feel give our life meaning and purpose and a reason to live. 

But lest we become excessively far-sighted in our outlook, neglecting the seemingly mundane, the rote activities, the everyday minutiae and the obscure details that in reality constitute the majority of the experience of life. Let us instead remind ourselves of the corporeal—we can be starved of purpose just as much as we can be starved of food, we can thirst for meaning just as much as we can thirst for water, and we yearn for love just as much as we yearn for rest. The desire for one or the other should never be in imbalance.

Discontent

For every day that passes in this momentous life of mine, do I not have good health? 

Do I not bask in the luxuries of clean water and gourmet food? 

Have my hands not found something that brings joy to my heart?

Have I not unchained myself from oppressive shackles of emotion?

Why, then, if I have nothing more I could possibly ask for in this peculiar existence, do I inundate my consciousness with discontentment?

Chaos

As much as we try to psychologically detach ourselves from the inexorable chaos outside our perception, as much as we try to understand—meticulously peeling away at the seemingly innumerable number of layers of reality that constitute an ultimate truth—there seems to be nothing more undeniably real and irrevocably true than our feelings and emotions. 

The pure, unfettered joy of eating when famished, drinking when parched, resting when exhausted,

The warm comfort of a mother’s embrace, 

The relentless gravity of a lover that tugs upon our hearts,

The searing pain of burning hot oil splashing onto our skin,

The visceral panic when a large animal charges at us, 

They are all but atoms, scattering haphazardly in space.

They are all but players in this nonsensical game we call life.

But in that moment before our minds can rationally justify how we feel, we are one with the chaos.