Three journal entries here. One from last week which I did not post because it was too negative. A second I wrote today and will post because I thought it would balance out the first, and a third just now. I'm not really a pessimist. I'm not exactly a realist either.
11/6/06
Dear Journal,
To what end do I write in you? It is not exactly boredom. Boredom implies a lack of work and responsibility, but my weariness of life (and it is a weariness of life) is something quite different. It is not lack of responsibility, but lack of purpose, and a questioning of why I do certain things. Work and study seems to be so obvious a pursuit I shouldn’t even question it. One works and studies to advance oneself, and learn a vocation -- to put food on the table so to speak, but it is also, shamefully, tedious. I fear it is becoming a chore. I must constantly remind myself that what I do matters to someone and will make some difference in the world. Then, I assure myself, it must certainly be worth it. Even then, I am using an external justification for something which should be able to stand on its own merit alone. Why can’t I just be at peace with myself? Why can’t I be at peace with being alone?... My life has been a constant search for work and companionship. To search for those two as I do is not exactly wrong, but not exactly right either. To what end do I search for friends and try to find people to fill the void within my life? I don’t think it has an end. I search for people because I’m bored. I search for people because I feel powerless and lonely. I search for people because I don’t know what else to search for. There is always the dark, tainting presence of death. I think the only way I handle it is by knowing that all of us will die, and maybe then I won’t be alone in embracing something I fear. I am a fool -- a poor, witless fool.
11/13/06
For once, let me write something in here when I’m happy. The world can’t possibly be so bad. There are creatures here that live and work, finding food for themselves, raising young, taking each new day without a care. Millennia of evolution, and each new creature has the resolve to survive. Surely they are aware of death on some level. They feed themselves, they avoid predators, they move on. It is man, who is bestowed with gifts beyond that of any animal, who uses it too to destroy himself. Perhaps it is the awareness of destruction that compels him to destroy. There is an awareness of something rotten and imperfect, perhaps the distance from an unknowable God? Yet, Joy. I said I would write about it today. It is merely the opposite side of the coin, opposite of pain. Pain cannot exist without joy. Things exist in relation to one another. I am joyful today. I see the darkness, but I walk in the light. How could any rational man choose not to? Divided between two paths, of pleasure and of pain, why would any rational man choose pain? Some people choose as events are doled out to them, but we all must experience pain and we all must experience pleasure. Do not dwell on things, but take them as they are. There is an end to everything. Change the things you can.
2:35 pm
Writing again. Yes, I am happy today. I have cleared my mind of worry and restraint. The rain is refreshing. The light falls softly on the leaves. I think I am happy when I am not deep in thought. Troublesome, is it not?
2 comments:
just reading through your interesting posts. made me think of a book that you might find interesting. it's called Chazown by Craig Groeschel. it deals with life's purpose and calling and sounds like a great read for you. :)
Where is your calling taking you? Yes, you feel everything around you but who is calling you?
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