In the darkness is beauty and mystery, for the veiling of the seen is an invitation to create. Our minds fill the void with what they will, and our wills become a substitute for reality. We could imagine in front of us a thing we like, behind us the things we despise. We can forget the valleys and picture only the fields of bliss.
In the darkness also lies fear, for with the freedom to create a vision of our own, we gain a certainty that we cannot know what is really around us. Reality is a state, and it cannot be altered. Any substitute is a falsehood.
In the light is clarity, though freedom diminishes as clarity increases. We can lose our way in the dark, and our fault can be forgiven, but in the light, our choices bring with them a weight of responsibility. The unseen unveiled become evident, and reality overwrites our substitutions.
Sometimes we wander from the dark into the light, only to find ourselves in a cloud, seeing some things, misinterpreting others, and missing all of the rest.
In the darkness can be comfort.
In the light can be truth.
In the truth can be darkness.
Thankfully, I am not the master of my fate, nor am I the captain of my soul.
“But I can be good enough!”
This was the cry which had echoed out so many times before, the anthem of the timeless and oh-so-futile struggle that every human fights. The sum of all mortal hopes, dreams, and delusions gathered into one statement. Man has always fought against his helplessness. There is always a battle when the eternal fate of his soul is brought forth for scrutiny. He is convinced, in his mind, of his ability to survive. The Earth is his plaything, sickness is but an inconvenience, and the animals exist for naught but to be controlled. He is his own master. Why should he not be able to control his place in the afterlife? God is but an idea, an ideological crutch on which to lean. Only the weak need to acknowledge Him; that’s what the strong tell themselves.
“I can be good enough!” Always in the future, ever a possibility, never an I am, that’s for the shallow. There’s always one more thing. There are always improvements to be made. Perfection is always just ahead. I. Can. Be.
Like the constant attempts of the mosquito to survive, the finger plugging the dam, or the roadkill which once tried to traverse the highways without a vehicle, so is man. On its own, the finite can never become infinite. The infinite can never be completely reduced to the definable. Collect, pile, multiply, and repeat, the infinite is never within grasp. There will always be an amount, no matter how large the number. Infinite is not a human term. It can be, but it never will. The theoretical has no bearing on the divine. Possibilities will not pass for constants. Can be will never pass for I am. I have been, can be, might, was, or could—none of these will suffice.
Without a piece of the infinite, the finite is but a mere dot on a scale—easily obtainable and even more easily surpassable. It is when the infinite comes down, takes on the burdens on the finite, and provides a portal through which both can pass, that the finite is saved.
“No, you can’t,” came the response, “but I can.”
Relativity. Strange concept, isn’t it? I’ve noticed that quite a bit in this world is considered to be relative. Time isn’t relative, in measurement anyway, but out perception surely is. An hour of enjoyable games or conversation can seem much shorter than thirty minutes of drab lecture time. We often seem like we need more time when a deadline is present, yet an upcoming holiday can seem to take ages in arrival.
Enjoyment is relative. Some people may read this post and think it’s interesting; most will probably fall asleep halfway through and wake up in time for lunch… I personally like eating spicy food. Some of my friends won’t eat anything hotter than an Altoid mint.
Value is another relative. I value my family and friends above all else earthly. I’d place my Labrador and computer stuff I next in line, but really, all of my possessions could be destroyed if it saved my family from some peril. They say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but that seems like it’s giving the observer quite a bit of power, doesn’t it?
I could go on, but I’m getting relatively tired of examples. Let’s go back to enjoyment. Psychological relativity. When one says that something is relative, he is implying that it is not constant. That brings up a question in my mind; what is constance? In order for something to be constant, it must have constraints. Those constraints must be placed by an entity who/that is in himself/itself is constant or universal. Do universal constants actually exist?
In theory, I suppose they do. The only reason things are relative is because we (humanity as a collective) don’t have the capability to define them absolutely. This blog post has an absolute worth–if we had the time to sift through everything ever written, rank it based on an absolute value system (also theoretically determined by everyone), and assign it a value. Of course, this could never happen. Most of us would be dead, either from old age or boredom, before we ever finished a tenth of what’s been written, but it’s a fun thought.
This is where a divine entity comes in. God is often said to be omnipotent and omniscient; two words which, when combined, make me think of a vastly superior computational engine. A perfect Wolfram Alpha on steroids. That makes me wonder how He sees us. He can calculate our worth to the last, seemingly unimportant detail, and it’s all absolute. He not only defines the constraints, He embodies them.
This is where things get funny. This whole blog post has been centered around the relative worth of things, but if the worth is pre-defined by an absolute entity, what is the use of another value system? If Person A says that a check is worth $5, and Person B says that same check is worth only $4, who is right? In this case, it’s the bank, not the people bickering over the worth of the piece of paper in their hands. I think this is similar to how God sees us. We’re all bickering and arguing over our relative worths, yet our systems matter not at all when we go to the bank!
People often see themselves as worthless. Even if they acknowledge a God, they see Him as too big, or too abstract, or too withdrawn from this world to care about mere people. They think that because they’ve messed up or failed, that He won’t take the time for them. Others see themselves above “god.” They see Him as a concept; a scheme thought up to control the masses and a marketing strategy to sell leather-bound books. Does value really work that way, though? Can we all hold ourselves in abstract value, relative to our surroundings, opinions of others, and feelings? Do we have a choice?
I’ll argue that we do. Judging by the Bible, we are worth far more than sparrows, and God even sent His son to die for us, but again, I am using my relative value system to assign worth to my interpretation. I think I know that I’m right, but you can choose to interpret those verses however you wish. I suppose that all we can do is make the best cases for our value systems. We won’t really know who’s right until we take it to the bank. I’d just hate to be wrong.
Have a relatively good day,