Day 1725, innocent.

I try, even if it is impossible, to maintain my naivety. I am afraid to settle in a comfortable place in my mind, and steer my life from there. At the least, I try to feign naivety so that the world treats me like I am naive.

I still remember the times that I learned new things, and that I thought: how can I have lived before, without knowing this. The scary thing is, it doesn’t happen any more, or at least, less frequent. Why is this scary you might wonder, because there must be more things to learn. Not finding these new things to learn can mean that I have settled down in my mind, so to speak, or that I am looking at the wrong places. Like for example: the same places.

I lost, for a while now

the innocents, from just opened eyes

it fell down somewhere, maybe when I turned.

This poem is the inspiration for today, I wrote it on Day986.

I think that settling down with what you know is part of growing up and getting older. Your muscles and back are slowly getting stiffer so why would your mind be any different. And like living an active life might delay your slow decay, so does having an active mind slow down the decay of your thoughts and mind.

And like playing with the kids when your older so is playing naive when you know it, helpful to stay younger.

Day 1724, I stand here.

Day's pictures, Poetry

Sometimes you forget that other people don’t think and see the world as you do. An example: the idea that people in different times and places had a variety of viewpoints on all kind of subjects told me that they could not all be right. This taught me that if I feel that an opinion creeps into my conciseness I should ask myself where it comes from. Is it the culture I live in, that agrees with this opinion? Am I obstinate? Is it the book that I am reading? No matter where your opinion comes from, it is an “answer” on a question that stands around that particular question with all the other answers. It is your perspective on that question that determines your answer.

Perspectivism is an legitimate philosophical topic and should not be confused with relativism. We all have different perspectives towards the world, and where and how you interpret the world depends on that. It is important however to know that not all perspectives or viewpoints are equal. A child of 12 and a pilot have both an idea of how to fly an air plane, but it is obvious that one of them is more “right”.

If people say that everybody has a right to their opinion and that you shouldn’t judge them on that, then you talk about relativism. People that support this kind of relativism often say that there is no truth, or that we cannot get there. The sad thing is that we humans often don’t want to accept that other people found a (scientific) truth, but because we don’t understand it we condemn the person that knows.

I don’t like to talk about current affairs but with the Covid epidemic going on and many people rejecting science we have a real-time example of this problem. Lets take America as an example: last year millions of people have gone to the doctor, they got there medical help and subscriptions, that they took without questioning. Because of all kinds of reason, suddenly a big part of these same people shifted there perspective and started questioning there doctors and science. Often the argument is that no one knows and that’s why they are also right, but it is pretty obvious that last years obedient patient knows less about viruses then the doctors they mistrust now.

The inspiration for today came from Day 969.

Perspective and change

a walk around in your mind

realism portrait.

The first word obviously got me going. The perspective of the doctor in the last example is years of schooling, experience and don’t forget an oath and probably a drive to help people that are in need. Compared to the people that deny science, they have an perspective on the disease that is further away from an scientific and curious angle and closer to the perspective of the snake oil salesman from yesteryear’s.

Day 1723, catching thoughts.

Day's pictures, Poetry

For some reason I often look at the first light, when the sun is still reflecting in the morning. It feels like the silence just after you wake up in an empty house and the moment you hear the first noises.

Day 964.

Early morning light

is framed by a closed window

reflecting my mind

In this poem from 2 years ago I tried to catch that moment, when I stand in front of the window and see the light outside breaking through the leafless trees. Sometimes I see a reflection of myself, looking through the window.

The silence of an empty house can be a fertile place for thoughts. If you learn how to recognize and “frame” these moments. You can benefit later, when the world is turned on again, from what you have caught in your frame and window. When you pick up that moment, you can see the reflection of your mind in it, as well as the thoughts it contains.

If you are honest to yourself and learn how look critically inside, you will notice that it is hard to find out which of your thoughts and idea’s are original, as in a 100% yours, and which are borrowed and/or partially compiled and plagiarised from someone else’s idea’s.

It is probably hard to find a genuine original idea inside yourself. Your thoughts and ideas are made out of many different parts. If you are lucky you might find an idea’s inside you that is made out of known parts but you arranged them in such a way that it becomes something unique. It’s like music, where you have a limited number of notes but an almost unlimited way of arranging them, and some of those arrangement are beautiful, but most of them just noise.

My idea of early morning light is quite cliché I think, as well as a window that frames the world, but maybe the combination that I made is more unique. I don’t know if that is the case. I Wil never read all that is written, so I will never know how original I am. My excuse is that I write this in the evening, after a day’s work and a house that makes all kinds of noises.

The premiss of my poem was that the silence in the morning can produce, or frame as I call it, good ideas. This framing is important because it represents the idea that those thoughts you have with a clear mind in the morning are not yet polluted by the daily noises and distractions. The reflection symbolises this idea to, the light is a reflection of the clarity in your mind and the thoughts caught in the frame are a reflection of your mind…

Day 1722, object in a vat.

Day's pictures, Poetry

This morning on my way to work my thoughts interrupted my listening to an interesting podcast, I tried to ignore it, but finally gave in. The scenario played in my head that one of my colleges, who I told the other day that I am interested in philosophy, would ask me what philosophy is according to me. There are many ways you can answer this question, but the one that popped up in my head, all fresh, was that I would ask him if he has an opinion about something, and he probably would say yes, and then I would tell him that he should ask himself where that opinion comes from. That’s philosophy in a nutshell, asking questions and especially to yourself and I would also add that there is no end to this questioning besides fatigue. I was, and am quite satisfied with that short answer and can’t wait to use it one day. Also yes, I asked myself if it makes sense, and me writing about it now is part of that questioning.

I tell you this because philosophy can go abstract fast but in the example from above it is something that everybody can do. One of the abstract questions has to do with the poem I wrote for Day 959.

You perceive, observe

the other – object – adverse

it was my intent

How do I know if the other person is not just an object that miraculously mimics a human being or what they call in philosophy the “problem of other minds” or more fancy: solipsism. I am not going into this to deep for now, you can look it up on the web but in short it is the idea that we can not know for sure what’s going on outside our mind or if other people have a mind and think like you. Related to this is the thought experiment the “brain in a vat” wherein a scientist puts your brain in a vat, connects it to a computer and you would not know the difference when you experience the world compared to when you where still in your flesh an blood body. The computer tells you that you listen to music and you experience it like that including the living room you sit in.

But besides these more abstract questions you can also ask yourself if you treat someone else as an object when you interact with them. If I want to pay my groceries I don’t treat the cashier badly when they are just part of the whole “experience”. Imagine your busy and thinking about stuff, you walk to the counter, put your groceries on it, look at the numbers, take your credit card, look at the face hovering somewhere above the counter and quickly see if it has an expression of: you can pay. You pay, say hi with a quick move of your face in the direction of that person and you leave. Think of it, or try it out, can you remember the face of the person that helped you? They have done some great experiments with this where they changed the person with another halfway through the conversation and a lot of people don’t notice it.

Is the person in this example not just an object on your way out? For you it is, in that moment, but it is of course a person and would that person suddenly fall ill in front of you, you would be released of your spell and help. Like you would if the cash register breaks down when you want to pay, and you see the problem.

Day 1721, maze with no entrance.

Day's pictures, Poetry

“Thoughts like silhouettes” is the line that caught my eye whilst looking for a poem for tonight. This one I wrote the 31^st of October 2018, Day 952.

A dream like walk home

dark roads an almost clear sky

thoughts like silhouettes.

A silhouette is formed when the object you look at is in contrast with something in the background. Normally this object you look at is covered in darkness and appears black because of this. So if you use this definition then thoughts that are silhouettes appear as black but maybe only because they are covered in darkness.

So your thoughts can appear dark but its not necessary that they are, and they only appears as dark because something bright shines behind it. Is this just another way of telling you that there is light at the end of the tunnel? Something we call in Dutch a “dooddoener”. You could translate it as: a lame cliche or a banality. I think it can mean something more. Your thoughts can be covered in darkness and altered this way. It can appear to be covered in darkness because the memory of a bright past or a bright future you hope for shines in the distance towards you contrasting your current state. You see your current state as a silhouette against those expectations and memories, and as a silhouette you are covered in a veil of darkness and cant see yourself and the real word clearly.

Another way of looking at it, is what we do now. I see the three words and see “a silhouette” of its appearance, but I cant see what meaning is hiding under its cloak of darkness. I think we all have had the experience that you ”feel” what you want to say but you can’t find the word for it. As if you see the answer in front of you like a animal does that knows no words. At most you can point and wave without these words or go off on a ramble hoping you find a way to tell what you see and mean.

And what about the “light source” behind the silhouette, that makes it a silhouette. What shines us in the face when we cant get out of our words and only see the silhouette of what we want to say. Is it the glaring fact that we are fallible creatures? A reminder that we still have to learn things and lack our own light to shine in the darkness?

I don’t know if looking to the world with the help of metaphors is useful, maybe it helps us to find a way out of the maze of our mind. With our thoughts we try to interpret our inner world of wordless emotions and sensations and somewhere in our mind these thoughts get converted to the words we have access to. Everybody through the ages that writes about “what’s happening” has tried to translate these inner movements to words that others can understand and relate to. There have been successes, they even came close, seen from certain perspectives, but I think it will be a playground for many years to come.

Day 1720, mirror.

Day's pictures, Poetry

When I look in a mirror I know that I see myself. I know that I see myself, because I looked at myself in the mirror before. But I just realized that I have seen my girlfriend more than myself, time-wise. I couldn’t help it but if I look in the mirror to myself for 5 minutes a day, in a month that will be around 2.5 hours and in my 48 years around 1500 hours or 60 day’s. And five minutes is not much for some but do you really stare at yourself and consciously take in what you see? I maybe do that 5 minutes a month, I definitely see my colleagues more than that in a month, just to see what there faces are telling me, something I never do when I talk to myself.

So we are no stranger to ourselves, face wise. But if I and my girlfriend rob a bank and the police sketch artist ask me to describe the two thieves, I would have a harder time describing myself than my girlfriend I think…something I would like to try out one day, the describing myself, not the robbing a bank… This is all funny, but seriously, I have a hard time looking at myself and get some kind of information out of that, compared to what I get when I look at someone else that I just met. I don’t know if I give away some kind of mental disorder on my part but I think we all see the difference between a serious face, or a face of someone who has seen a lot or a naive face. I can go on but the point is that I don’t see myself like that. One of the reasons is off course that I have only seen myself for the first time when I was to young to realize this fact. I also have a strong opinion about myself, and what my face should portray to first time visitors. My girlfriends face, or that of my mother, have also less secrets than before, and what it tells me now has also changed over the years. But in our daily communication our faces are still a big part of that back and forth, words only tell half the story. It is that part that I miss when I look in the mirror, that active communication with myself. I only have my own thoughts without the help of my face.

I see a stranger

my hairs rise and with my fear

i turn the mirror.

This poem from Day 928 was the inspiration for today’s writing.

It speaks for itself regarding the message I try to tell above. The only thing that I don’t mention is the fear that turns me away from looking to long at myself. For now I can only say that my face in the mirror is motionless and it’s scary to look at, because it comes to close to what I feel deep inside.. Maybe my face is telling me the truth after all.

Day 1719, perpendicular.

Day's pictures, Poetry

If you believe the American/Hollywood culture there are such groups as Italian, Irish, Colombian, Japanese and many more American flavors. They’re portrait as quite distinct from your “normal” Americans. I get this fascination with focusing on the differences, but I hope that people understand that we are for 95% the same in our behavior, in similar situations. I don’t know if it is 95%, that’s a guess.

I am Dutch, and I have some ways of doing things that I have seen more among other people that lived around me in the Netherlands. They say that those are “typical” Dutch behaviors so I pay more attention to them and as a consequence of that attention, I see them more, ignoring the majority that lacks them. I do the same, but in reverse, here in Norway where I live now. They told me, and I read it in books that Norwegians are I some behaviors different than a typical Dutch person. I noticed that they are less organized and more individualistic at work. I worked in different places throughout the country and and I see the similarities. I think we really approach work and organizing differently but focusing on this, and blowing it out of proportion, I might have forgotten that there are many more things we do the same.

I have an anecdote regarding the Dutch and, in this case, the Norwegians. I thought that I came up with this idea but not so long ago I read it also in a book, so I think that “my idea” is somewhat of an exaggeration, but you never know. It goes like this: In the Netherlands we have to build dikes to keep out the water. The one thing that is unique about a dike compared is that everybody that lives behind the dike needs to take care of his or her part of the dike. If one fail’s, everybody is doomed. During the centuries we (the people living in the river delta where later the Netherlands was established) learned to work together and come up with systems to insure the safety of everybody. You can imagine that a thousand farmers in Norway can more or less do what they want at there farm without it effecting there neighbors to much. I think that this anecdote can explain how a behavior slowly grows and gets past on to each following generation. But, for the last 150 years or so you can put the people that take care of the “dike” systems in the Netherlands in a few buses. I have admired the dikes and waterworks in the Netherlands but I never put a shovel in the ground to help, the closest I came was electing the new boss of the departments that maintains it all. So at best I have some lingering “organizing” meme* in me.

The poem that inspired me today was from Day 922

perpendicular

my thoughts and the soil I left

high above I fly.

I read it and thought: my thoughts about my heritage and behavior are not based on a broader understanding of the country and culture I am from. My thoughts comprise at most the place of my footprint, they go “perpendicular” up and that’s my knowledge, and from there I “fly” away

* “According to Dawkins, “the meme exemplified another self-replicating unit with potential significance in explaining human behavior and cultural evolution.“ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Meme#Dawkins

Day 1718, upwards downhill.

Day's pictures, Poetry

From Day 911

I float slowly down

then I unexpectedly

have nowhere to go.

I realize that my Haiku’s from this period are often about getting stuck in life. My inspiration for the poems normally start with the picture, in this case its a hippopotamus seen from the side through glass , the big beast slowly floats down till its hit the ground. The poem describes the situation the only difference is that its written from my point of…feeling.

But I think about life, read books about it, live it. If you do that with some critical thinking then life will appear as a slow road downhill till the end, its just the way it is. You can sugarcoat it what you want but after your eighteenth birthday you physically decay slowly and the spring in your mind gets stiffer and stiffer. What I want to say is that having thought about life going nowhere is not necessary a reflection on what’s going on at the moment in your life.

I don’t like to complain that I am on a downhill trajectory, when we are always going down. Maybe you think you are going upwards at some points in your life, but with enough distance you will see that your still going down. I assure you, I am still a positive guy, just realistic. Why do I think then that this is a healthy way of looking at life, you might ask. I think that a part of being human is feeling, even if it is deep inside, that life is pointless. To combat this realization we humans created all kinds of ideas and stories that assure us that life is not useless. The problem is that people don’t like to be reminded of the origin of these stories and would happily kill the person that tells a different story or none. Life is more clearer without all these illusions stuffed in your head, this is one advantage of excepting you are going downhill and slowly getting there.

The funny thing Is, now that I am approaching my fiftieth birthday (still a kid according to my 75 year old colleagues) is that I still dare to take big steps in life, but no longer out of innocence and lack of respect for the consequences, but because I know that I will always find solid ground…when I land downhill.

Day 1717, to do or not to do.

Day's pictures, Poetry

There are moments in your life that you have to make a decision. Easy ones like: do I eat pizza or pasta? Or a moderate one like: do I buy the red or black car? And the harder ones like a divorce or quitting a job. All these decisions come on our paths and they can be exciting but the are not exciting. They are just the mundane events that are part of everybody’s life, and though they can be thrilling and/or devastating, nonetheless they are not special as in, out of the ordinary.

I like the events that are out of the ordinary, or maybe better said: events that grind against the boundary of what is possible when they pass you by in the far distance. An example: a friend tells you about his uncle that lives in a far away land, that uncle is looking for someone for his company, its a job you can do, but are not qualified for, but because of your connection you might get it. You might get it if you go for it. You have to move to a whole different continent, live in another culture and work in a field you don’t know. The whole idea is so far from you, literally and figuratively, but also a possibility and a decision away. If you don’t take the decision, life will go on, but you will always remember the feeling of what it would be like, living that other life.

I think that everybody can come up with an example for themselves. It can just be a dream that one day comes really close, a decision away “close”…what do you do.

The inspiration for this thought came from the haiku I wrote on Day 907.

An empty blue chair

a distant view passes by

I slowly decide.

Do I sit in the blue chair, or do I make my first step towards a new view that is passing by.

Day 1716, diamond and coal.

Day's pictures, Poetry

Sometimes your past, or more specifically the plans from your past, come speeding towards you faster than you go forwards. This can happen suddenly, when you open a dust covered box from the attic, or power on your old Nokia phone from 2002 and look at the call history. Old plans, memories and wishes cling to us, hidden from sight, ready to appear uninvited.

These unwelcome or forgotten parts of your past horizons are often a byproduct of some sort of transformation. Your relation ended in tears which are dried up and forgotten by now, but the breakup made you move and because of that you found a job that changed your life, and horizon.

The pasts that follow you have many facets. And like a diamond they are hardened by the pressure of time, forgetfulness and bias. The different sides of your past memories are also sharply divided, a tragic loss can be cut next to a new hope.

But no matter what, your past made you who you are know, and should be admired like you admire a diamond. Don’t forget that your past might be ugly like a lump of coal, but without that peace of coal and some pressure you will never shine like a…

My inspiration for today came from the poem that belonged to Day 901.

Rime and horizon

facets of transformation

speeding behind you.

I like the word rime. Your past can be frosty and no matter what, you always look forwards to a horizon, even if you go backwards. But rime is also old English for rhyme. I used the facets and diamond analogy above but you might as well use rhyme or poetry as an analogy for your past. In your head your past can be ugly but for your own sake you make it rhyme so you can remember it more fondly.

Day 1715, fall out of.

Day's pictures, Poetry

Like we do, words can also mean something else if they are surrounded by other companions. It is far from polite to say everything you want in someone’s face. I can’t imagine a society, now or in the past, where that would be appropriate. You don’t tell your new boss that he’s a lying peace of… you wait with that till your home, with another companion, or when your quit or know and respect each other. Strangers might curse at each other, but a stranger with who you have to build a relation should not be told the (your) truth when you just met. We all know this truth, or call it “normal behavior”, even if we don’t follow it or have some kind of (mild) sociopathic behavior.

So what we say depends on where and with who we are. If you follow the ideas of Darwin and his evolution theory, you can imagine that a person that constantly tells what he thinks of others will quickly be thrown out of the group, and thus has a hard time procreating. Its a little simple the way I tell it but our social behavior has a link with our success in evolving. Some behaviors are more attractive and beneficial than others. Can you imagine that the strongest male still would mate exclusively with all the females in the group, that behavior died off early in our evolution, though its echo might still be seen in some of us.

With our words and where they are, or how they are interpreted, we have an easier time understanding the rules though there might still be some evolution involved.

In the poem that I chose for today (Day 893) I used a word you can read in different ways and so change the interpretation of the poem.

Remains after fall

a relic of dignity

prosaic delight.

The picture that accompanied this haiku can probably be guessed. When its fall (autumn is the more formal name for this part of the year) the majestic flower slowly dies and that can make you reminisce about summer. But we can also reminisce about our, or someone else’s fall. Like falling from grace or favor. Your dignity can be bruised after you “fall from your high horse” and many will take delight in that.

Words are funny, I looked up the word fall and there are many ways you can interpret and use this word, maybe the word fall is THE equivalent for the word human.

Day 1714, behind.

Day's pictures, Poetry

I like Jean-Paul Sartre’s existentialism, you are responsible for your own deeds and the door is wide open. It was, and is of course a bold thought, and he refined it later in life as I understood. But in a sense, he is right. If you have to do something and it will cost you your life if you don’t, you can choose death. You can walk away from a bad relation or job, just walk away. It is simple, it sounds simple but it is also, almost impossible. A great harm or bad relation feels often more secure than an unknown future or a known future you don’t want.

Sartre came up with many of his thoughts during the second world war in occupied France. He probably knows more about the ultimate sacrifice than we do, even if it is just through stories from close friends. Would you save someone else’s life if it meant your own death? It is a choice you have according to Sartre, there is no denying in that.

Another example, more relatable for most of us. Keeping a job you don’t like but the bill’s keep on coming and you and the people that rely on you need to eat and want a roof over their heads. There is no physical force, that I can think of, that keeps you from walking away from it all. And people do of course, and we tend to shame those people.

We feel responsible, have morals and values. You just don’t do that, but you could. And Sartre was right in this sense, and you might expect that your wife or husband can take responsibility for there own life if you suddenly disappear, but what about your kids or a sick mother that lives with you?

We have the ultimate freedom to go away or choose death, but is it honest to expect this from us?

The Haiku that inspired me was from Day 889

Behind no bars

leaning on the open door

and staring outside.

The picture that was the inspiration of this poem was of a chicken in its coop, but the door was also open, as always. Footnote: this particular chicken was eaten by an…well…a sort of eagle. We saw it all happen while sitting on our couch…poor thing…maybe it was her own choice…

Day 1713, curious.

Day's pictures, Poetry

When I was young(er) I opened up the toys that I had, curious as I was for what was inside, and how it worked. Later in life I became “the toy”, and was curious how I worked, inside. When I was young I also had the habit of opening up other’s toys, and later their minds…not appreciated, in both cases, I can tell you.

I sometimes wonder if a character trait like curiosity is something you learn or inherit. I think that most of it is inherited, and if you are lucky that a trait like that, sticks its little head just above the rest of your traits and gets encouraged, it will blossom. It can also be suppressed by your surrounding and later, when you grow up, no one will ever know of it.

But can you learn to be curious? If you can, then no one has ever found out how you do that. Imagine if more people where curious and wondered: why do I have this specific opinion and not another? Would the world not be a ~~better~~ other place?

I think that a lot of people have at least a little bit of curiosity left in them from there childhood. Maybe the soil is not so barren that a little rain could sprout some lingering seeds. But there is a big change that the barren soil has a big foundation and walls build on it, that keeps the outside world at bay, and the gathered believes safely inside. I guess we first need a jackhammer.

The haiku that inspired my little writing of today was from Day 883.

I spread my fingers

trying to touch entirety

its hidden rhythm.

Day 1712, games we play.

Day's pictures, Poetry

I have this video game I like to play, its called HOI4 or Hearts of iron 4 for the noobs among you. Its a war simulation game where you spend a lot of time preparing before the action starts. I like this part, preparing, organizing, planning and I always tell myself that if the wars start I keep this meticulous organizing going on. But soon the haze of war takes over and I make some general plans and press the go button, feeling sad by the waste and eager for a result.

The poem I wrote on Day 876 of my project goes about this feeling.

Grey sky surrounding

the wind propels you forwards

leaving you behind.

If you see the picture that belongs to this poem you understand why I wrote it like I did. One of my goals when writing these poems is to also describe the picture, sometimes quite literally.

My take on it now:

Sometimes we can be so focused on a task, day, or part of our life that we feel driven by an external force. We work, we do, we go and when its time, we look back in wonder…what just happened? You where left behind, and the world lived you, til you circle back around and see yourself watching, from behind.

Have a good Sunday (or Monday).

Day 1711, holding on.

Day's pictures, Poetry

While leaning in my chair, looking at the poem I chose for today I wondered what this is good for. Not all of this, but writing in an abstract way about life, instead of writing about more practical things. I started a book about Wittgenstein and he goes deep and abstract. Talking about the meaning of the word and, and how we use languish. It is interesting, for some people at least, they publish books about him so I guess there is a market. I don’t know why it is useful that people study these subjects, I tell myself that it is like some kind of higher math, useless for our daily lives, but if you drive a car or take a flight somewhere you better thank the people that took the time to understand this hocus-pocus math and use that knowledge when they designed our cars or that airplane. Somewhere in our daily lives Wittgenstein’s ideas benefit us, though we never might know how.

The little poem/haiku I chose today, once again tells about our fruitless quest for meaning and destination. Don’t get me wrong, I think life is great but I can honestly not think of a time in my life that I thought that it led to something. For the longest time I thought that that was normal and the reason for why I am curious. How can you be curious if you already know where you are going? But sometimes I wish I could crawl into someones head that has figured it all out, just to feel what that’s like, it tickles my curiosity.

Day 857

Holding on to tight

On a narrow path nowhere

protecting a clue.

I see that I had two letters capitalized, with no period at the end of the sentence, and one with but no capitalized letter at the beginning. I guess my dyslexia screwed with me again. That why I, for the longest time now, start with a capitalized word at the beginning of a poem and nothing at the end. Patterns are my glasses, if it comes to writing.

“Holding on to tight” and “protecting a clue” point to the people that see a…point and goal in life and who hold those two like they are something precious. But there anxious tread and secrecy shows that they hold something that is hollow and can break easily, and they don’t want others to see that.

The middle sentence speaks for itself in this context.

And now a quote from Wittgenstein that fits with what I have written today. (and please read about him or his books, quotes are so often out of context)

“Nothing is so difficult as not deceiving oneself.”

and

“Not how the world is, but that it is, is the mystery.”

Day 1710, internal.

Day's pictures, Poetry

The next poem that spoke to me was not because I liked it particular but because it was once again about reality, or the world we are aware of, and how we mold it to our needs. Remember, the nerves that connect to our eyes leave a blind spot, we miss a part of the picture when it is send to the brain, but that brain combines the two pictures of both our eyes and “makes up” the information that is missing.

That is a more physical reason why our senses are not a hundred per cent accurate or trustworthy. But our mind can play more tricks on us like cognitive dissonance or a lack of critical thinking. I was also listening to a book about stoicism, and specifically Seneca. One of the ideas of stoicism is that you should not let the outside world be responsible for your happiness, don’t think that money, a big house or (in ancient Greases case) many slaves will make you happy, because it can be taken away from you. Find a spot in yourself as the source of your happiness and than it doesn’t matter where you are or what you have or loose.

I like the last sentence of the poem I chose for today: “the world stops out there”. Your world stops outside of you, or said in an other way, the way you see the world is constructed (subconsciously) by you, and can resemble reality but it most definitely does not do that all the time. You construct a world internally, your eyes are corrected internally and your cognitive dissonance, phobia’s, upbringing and other ideas are part of the way you look, see and think about the world and yourself, they are part of the internal construct that determines how you see the world.

I like what the stoics are saying, and I think that it is useful to…aim for the idea that happiness should be found internally. But I also believe that the way we look from this internal platform to the world is marked by all the scars of our past and the way we are as humans. So in this mess we have to try to find a place where we can safely store our happiness. I am not finished with these two.

The poem is from Day 826: