… sometimes I wonder why many things started in the first place.

You engage in (lengthy) discussions on a topic which may or may not be controversial. It goes well from the start and when you encountered the slightest bits of differences in opinions, you end up disappointed, getting paranoid, feeling vulnerable, and the victim of a concerted attack…. why? what were you expecting? an uninterrupted monologue by you? what’s the point of getting involved if you come unprepared?

That kind of scenario happens too often, I’m afraid, and unfortunately, it usually doesn’t stop with the initial trading of "blows", it goes on and on until a compromise is reached, though even when the exchange ends, some parties end up a little more prejudiced especially if they would have to deal with the opposite party in the future.

People often forget why discussions are such helpful tools not only for individual participants, but for the larger group affected by the proceedings. In the interest of covering more ground and exploring much wider vistas of thoughts, it pays to have an open mind.

In any discussion, it is also worthwhile to ask ourselves what our intentions are, and to reveal them to others as soon as possible. In my experience (with group discussions) , this has helped us understand each other. It was better than having to guess each other’s.

If it was intended to be a sermon, let others know whether or not, you are/aren’t particularly inviting a different opinion. If it was a geniune venue for an exchange of ideas, acknowledge any contributions. If it was done to strike a point, let your arguments stand on its own. The facts would only strenghten its merits. If it was dubious, let it be known that it’s unsubstantiated. If you can’t convince another, you’d be out of place if you suddenly turn hostile and start fuming about.

Again, what were your intentions? Did you intend for yourself not to get hurt telling the group of your opinions? Do you want to feel good about something you know? Was it your intention to share? and at the same time not to let others do the same?

Maybe what we need, apart from an open mind, is a healthy dose of respect for our differences. Whether it’s god-given right, or a right accorded to one (under relevant state laws). Diversity can be a beautiful thing. For one, (I think) it makes for a much interesting world. Besides, as they say "the more the merrier". In some respects, it is.

——– I ——–

… at least some good can come out of Da Vinci Code: renewed interest in esoteric knowledge, secret histories, cornerstones and pillars of belief, faith, and religion,  and if we could spread the spectrum further to accommodate many of its bastards: superstition and unsubstantiated rumors.

But to what end? Enlightenment? Messages of Hope? Solutions to Age-Old Riddles? Or other inconvenient truths/half-truths/lies/lies that don’t go down quietly? and then, there are questions like: does it constitute an earth-shattering/faith-shaking revelation?

But the latter does happen. It did shake some people’s faith. It can shatter the grounds on which a person builds the foundations of his soul/values. In this age of "Yearning for Recognition, Searching for Identity, The Lost Generation, Desire to Belong to Someone or Something", we now have the means or rather a reasonable starting point from which our search could begin:

www.google.com

The answers — if it exists at all — is out there. On the other hand, you could also begin your search at:

www.wikipedia.org

However, I have to admit that this is far from the more romantic way, which usually begins with a deep reflection, followed prayer and meditation. And if God or a god was part of your reason for existing, your soul’s odyssey could very well be part of some grand, divine plan.

——– II ——–

… this might also be the perfect opportunity to re-read some books in my library.

"… you reason well and your wit is bold; but you are too prejudiced. You do not let your eyes see nor your ears hear, and that which is outside your daily life is not of account to you. Do you not think that there are things old and new which must not be contemplated by men’s eyes, because they know — or think they know — some things which other men have told them. Ah, it is the fault of our science that it wants to explain all; and if it explain not, then it says there is nothing to explain. But yet we see around us every day the growth of new beliefs, which think themselves new; and which are yet but the old, which pretend to be young."

                        —- Prof. Abraham Van Helsing
                                in Dracula by Bram Stoker

——– III ——–

Some dreams refuse to die:

Our Humanity.

That is the hypothetical/projected title of my life’s work. It is an exercise in writing. It started when I was a wee bit younger (maybe 9 or 10), that’s when I read my first book: Journal of a Teenage Genius by Helen Griffith. In a series of diary entries, He describes his mundane existence complicated by the fact that he goes unappreciated —- that is, until he meets a girl. His interest in the girl is two-fold: a) she’s smart (therefore "worthy of his genius") and b) she has a time machine in her basement.

Even as a kid (plagued by the usual 9 or 10 year-old-type-of-priorities in life), I found Ms/Mrs. Griffith’s writing nice and straightforward to follow ( i.e. it made reading easier for my poor brain). Thus, Inspired by her style,  I sought to keep a journal of my own.

It can’t be the average, journal-of-a-famous-so-and-so type since I wasn’t famous and I can’t see myself as a cultural icon — not now nor in the immediate or far-off future. Still, It has to be a significant work with a reasonable mass appeal.

I didn’t know where to begin or what of my life is worth writing about. So I delayed the project.

Chance came, and my father gave me another book: Arctic Rovings: Or the Adventures of a New Bedford Boy on Sea and Land. It’s also a journal chronicling four-year’s worth of adventures by Daniel Weston Hall.

In one passage, I was struck by his comments while getting whipped by the cruel captain as he was tied-up on the boat’s deck: man’s inhumanity to man.

Thus the project gained focus.

It wouldn’t about be about my life or adventures. It would be a record of everything I perceive to be useful in understanding man. In doing so, I aim to keep him from perpetrating acts of inhumanity to another. A lofty dream.

To achieve that goal, I would have to read lots of books. I will record words of wisdom (written in those works) that will lead me closer to the ultimate secrets of Our Humanity.

But I was still too young and inexperienced. The first words were not written by then in the summer of 1991, or the year I got the Arctic book.

I had to wait for some time before I managed to obtain the money to buy a good notebook (1994) for this undertaking. Of course, It would have been easier If I had just asked my parents for support. Apparently, the habit of keeping secrets was already on to me. Without a "worthy" notebook, I have consigned many words to memory, If not in its entirety, at least indices to where they are located in books.

I have kept myself preoccupied with this project ever since. Unfortunately, I ended up to going low-tech on this. It’s kept in my terrible handwriting and migrating to a better notebook meant that I had to copy it manually it to the new one.

Yeah. It really is an exercise in writing.

I have tried to break the spell — the heavy mute spell of the wilderness — that seemed to draw him to its pitiless breast by the awakening of forgotten and brutal instincts, by the memory of gratified and monstrous passions. This alone, I was convinced, had driven him out to the edge of the forest, to the bush, towards the gleam of fires, the throb of drums, the drone of weird incantations; this alone had beguiled his unlawful soul beyond the bounds of permitted aspirations

Marlowe
——– From “The Heart of Darkness” by Joseph Conrad