aligerous

I left Facebook a while ago, firstly, because they changed the privacy policy just enough that it seemed I no longer had much control at all over the data generated from my visits to their website or others. They started to pass it along to third parties, and that didn’t sit right. But, something else about the whole Facebook experience bugged me that I wasn’t able to put my finger on, except with some distance.

At the height of my usage, I found myself checking the site many times a day from my phone, looking for something to entertain me, someone else’s posts to ease even the most mild ennui – a micro-fix to a self-induced social addiction. But, rarely was it really substantive, meaningful, or satisfying.

Further than that, though, was the distraction from personal growth. As it was put by Thornton Wilder, one of the most challenging things to do in this American life is “to convert a loneliness into an enriched and fruitful solitude.” Sure, Facebook helps keep us in contact with people, builds those social connections. But, it is also brilliant at distracting us from truly meaningful interaction. How many people would we really keep in contact with without the website? Perhaps those are the relationships we should be emphasizing, including our relationship with ourselves.

It seems likely that the next decade will be the most distracting ever as, more and more, our attention will be sought in new and inventive ways for the purpose of commerce. Advertising is seeping in to every facet of life. When will we have time to know ourselves? When will we have time to become the empathic individuals the world needs?

My favorite time of year is here. The Indian Summer we’ve been having is wonderful – warm days and cool, crisp nights; it’s time to tap the sugar maples. The fireplace is in use again. The autumn colors are somewhat muted this year, it’s been so dry. But, it’s still beautiful.

I’ve had a few early mornings this week and was able to catch BBC’s The Strand program (it’s on at 4:30am here). Firstly, it amazes me just how much is going on around the world in the Arts at any one time. Secondly, though, I realized that I have always unwittingly connected art and money, as silly as that sounds, and therefore, I set it apart. Art always required money and/or it had to make money. Listening to the program helped me to dissociate the two which was surprisingly difficult to do and not insubstantial. Now, though, what I classify as art no longer has to be so palpable. Art can be for art’s sake. I see art in everything, from my smallest efforts at creating a meal, or in a body’s motion, to the crafting of a sentence, even driving and maneuvering the car – none of which are as obvious as they retrospectively seem. Even the smallest effort at art is worthwhile. It’s been a great week in that light.

For only as an aesthetic phenomenon can existence and the world be eternally justified. (Nur als ästhetisches Phänomen ist das Dasein und die Welt ewig gerechtfertigt.)

“The Birth of Tragedy”
– Friedrich Nietzsche, 1886

Life is the pursuit and experience of beauty. Art imbues meaning, and meaning imbues art. Without condition.

My elderly neighbor across the street died a few weeks ago with only his dog for company. The only fanfare of his passing was the police lights and the coroner’s hours-long visit when he was discovered, it’s estimated about five days after the fact. The cause has yet to be determined.

It’s a strangeness that such inherently-social beings, humans, should end up in permanent circumstances of loneliness. Sometimes it’s by choice. I confess to deeply enjoying solitude. But, I also revel in the company of good friends. And, I’m often torn between the two for reasons I have yet to fully understand. Fortunately, I am relatively free to decide when and how to socialize. But sometimes, we end up alone, not by choice, and any inner longing for companionship wears at the soul.

I fear that many who have survived to older age and have lost a spouse or companion or are far from family and friends, both of which seem to have been my neighbor’s condition, that they feel trapped. Only the strongest survive; rather, they survive longer. Perhaps the effects can be lessened, or mitigated, by a strong sense of meaning about one’s life. Lonely, or not, that is the goal, right?

I developed a theory that the surest way to satisfaction about life is to either make history or preserve it. This could otherwise be said to either do something for which you’ll be remembered, or work to pass something on to future generations. The latter could be the obvious preservation of history via writing, photography, curating, secretarial work, &c. But, it could also be producing children and raising them well, charitably working for the lasting benefit of others (this co-mingles with the former definition), or teaching, in whatever form that takes, among many other things.

I recently ran across this quote again that better and more eloquently summarizes the above, from a collection that attempts to define success:

To laugh often and much; To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.

- Bessie A. Stanley, 1911

I wish this for everyone. I hope that you found it, too, Ken. Rest in peace.

It was her eyes, those smiling eyes. The most beautiful I had ever seen. I couldn’t stop staring. I could write a book of poetry about her eyes.

Why am I drawn to romance? It comes in many forms, from the most thoughtful and thought-out of acts among nascent friends, to the simplest glance among aged lovers. What matters au fond, I suppose, is how heart-felt is the giver. And, it certainly helps to be matched with someone who holds the same ideas of it. Surely, romance would achieve it’s zenith if the receiver accepted, fully understood, felt and, reciprocated in kind. But, as with all gifts, it is firstly self-serving. And, therefore, should be considered a success, however small, if it is given at all in any form.

That, and I can’t help but give in to romance. For romance is just another word for loving. The point is this: love fully and you always win.

I circumnavigated the Spring Valley Wildlife Area marsh. I had never done that before, though I had been going there for years, the first trip of which was as a kid to collect acorns in the autumn. I also remember going on my twentieth birthday exactly a decade ago.

I don’t know what it is that calls me back each time. Perhaps just the sense of peace that is foisted upon me. It is fitting that, over the years, I’ve been going there with some of the most important people in my life, those who grew me. Today, I trekked alone in a crashing thunderstorm, a torrential downpour, and my footfalls were soaked. And, it was yet tranquil. I should probably stop writing since I’m obviously at risk of waxing poetic.

Suffice it to say that it is out among the natural world that I seem to be most centered; where, whether I understand it or not, whether I understand the greater scheme or not, a peace about all of it descends and permeates. It is clarity. It is companionship. It is home.