Random Thoughts

I remember the sparkling Aegean blue as twilight muted the glare, the rugged panoramic mountains of inland Arcadia, her soft flesh pressing against me in the night and the quiet dinners by the sea sipping on wine and feeling the southern winds tickling my ears.

I remember sunsets in Santorini and luscious forest walks after a spring shower beneath the canopy, the tender caresses of a violin in Monasteraki and the sounds of rushing river water as I waited for the dawn.
The moment passes us by and we lose it in an instant.
We appreciate life in hindsight or imagine it in foresight and the reasons aren't always clear.

It could be this western lifestyle governed by time schedules and efficiency standards, whipping us through time before our consciousness can catch-up.
It could be the distorting effects of memory that erases the uncomfortable details of physicality and forgets worries and concerns, focusing our attentions on what really mattered.
It could be the romantic delusions of an imagination that exaggerates things in recollection and clouds reality with a hoped for utopia.
Or it could just be me…..

But whatever it is, it is something to be considered.

To live in the present, to live in the moment, to forget the past and suspend hoping for a future is paramount in what is called, by the French, joie de vivre.
Losing ones self in the momentary ecstasy of existence and framing reality between two breathes is what is called joy.

Now, if only I could live up to this standard.

Creative forces are always at a disadvantage. Our boat-pilot, in the caves of Deiros, mentioned that a centimeter of stalagmite or stalactite takes a century to form, as we transverse through the narrow, waterlogged passages, and I thought to my self that a few seconds with a chisel and hammer could undo millennia of uninterrupted creativity.
But is destruction just another expression of creation, as chaos may well be another arrangement of order?
Is the human mind or the conscious mind in general, prejudiced towards certain types of harmony, balance and order or are there concepts absolute, universal standards?
Regardless… the caves were magnificent. Chambers of wonderment produced through millions of undisturbed chance occurrences and governed by forces unknown and unseen

He loved me this man; this stranger.
As a boy I feared him, his steely gaze, his knotted jaw, his clenched fists, and like all things we fear, I grew to hate him with a passion.
I blamed him for every suffering, for every dilemma in my life, before I took on, the responsibility for it all, upon myself as an act of redemption.
It was then that I saw him as what he was: a frightened, unsure, romantic doing the best he can with what he was given. Then I felt an affinity towards him; an affinity shared only by only the few outsiders existing on the peripherals of life or those with a genetic relation.
I still recall his face before the end. That instant of sheer joy in recognition, as he lay there tubed-up and force-fed the breath of life.
It stands out clear and honest in my mind; an image of pure love offered in the straight-forward, unambiguous language of facial expression.
How ironic that this man of so many words could not utter a single one when it mattered, when I really wanted to hear his voice, when I wanted to gather his words like souvenirs.
I still ask myself: "Who else will ever look upon me in this way, how many will smile at the simple sight of me? How many will love me like that, not perfectly, not effortlessly, not consistently but so purely, so honestly?"

Oh, what I would not give to see the world again through unknowing eyes; to dive into the mysteries head first in excited ignorance, unhindered by the weight of experience.
The Earth is small, my vision too weak and my mind too needy to keep me from boredom. Things have become familiar and predictable. What once filled me with awe only raises a snicker from me now.
Perhaps George Mollas has the solution: Where no mystery lies, create one; where there is no adventure or excitement, give birth to it in your mind; where there is shallow reef, dig into imagination and see the unfathomable abyss.
After all, is it not there that we all live anyway?
The senses are only there for suggestions; reason a clay mould awaiting your fingers to shape it into reality.
Yet it seems such a terrible price to pay for contentment…

"There's has been allot said about maturity and growing old.
The dominating feeling is that to "mature" is a natural progression of existence and a desirable one at that.

But what exactly is meant by the term "maturity", as it pertains to the human animal?

If we take it as a biological ascension to a physical potential, such as a fruit maturing on the branch or the achievement of the ability to reproduce, then we may disregard its totality; if we take it as a psychological benchmark, where the toils and experiences of the world embellish the individual with knowledge and talents, making him jaded and joyless in the process, then, here again, we may be just considering the phenomenon from a purely optimistic and temporally linear point of view where evolution, in itself, means progress to a higher state and the past always refers to a primitive, undesirable, ignorant existence.

As with everything, when something is gained something is also lost and when something is lost something is also gained.

We can all remember our childhood years, full of wonder and curiosity for a world not yet known, full of hope, and danger where no limits were considered and death itself but a distant myth, full of honesty and authenticity in interpersonal relationships with no demanded social graciousness, enforced politeness and social prerequisites, full of cruelty, love, hate, compassion but most of all, purity of motive and free expression of character with little shame or self-consciousness.

We can all remember the sheer joy of just living, of grasping the entire day and squeezing it dry of its possibility, of being unburdened by responsibilities [other than to ourselves or those imposed by adults upon us], duties, regulations [other than natural ones] and the restrains of "reality" that suffocates the liberating gasps of the imagination.

It was then ironically, when still unripe seedlings that we displayed the true spirit of our inner being and when, protected by others and allowed to frolic in the playgrounds of existence, we lived naturally and fully; it was then, when still strong and unhindered and when still full of untapped energy and unbridled focus that we felt the rapture of being alive and present in every moment.

But like the young tree needs to harden and become inflexible in order to withstand the strong winds, men also grow old and harden becoming, unbending trees with only one direction and few options reaching for the sky but leaving the earth far behind.

It is during the adolescent years that the first realization of what is required and what sacrifices are demanded from the individual begin sinking in.

It is while we were teenagers that we discovered that just being ourselves was not to be tolerated and certain behaviours were not to be allowed and in the despair we accepted the roles others forced upon us and we chose the masks we were to wear for the rest of our lives in order to be accepted and in order to survive in environments with their own rules and regulations.

The teen years are a kind of social boot-camp where all individuality is eradicated, personality repressed and any sign of undesirable uniqueness is destroyed. Utilizing the same indoctrination methods a military institution uses to create uniformity of thought and unity of action, a "new recruit" is moulded and changed, and the child that was becomes the mature entity that uses the very standards it is restrained by to exhibit its greatness and its adherence to the popular norms as its claim to personal value.

How often to we hear "old" men proclaim their worth by mentioning their ability to pay their taxes, to remain disciplined to the laws of their nation and their commitment to the moral and cultural standards of their peers?
Is it not always the wearied and those lacking vigour that defend the norm and attempt to conserve the past?

Is it not always those that have made their choices, invested their energies and have grown inflexible and intolerant of change, that try to extinguish any spark of youthful exuberance and any carefree spirit?

Is it not those that have been beaten-down and broken that now voice the embittered laugh of mockery towards those that still exhibit any childlike characteristic of purity, curiosity and exaltation for life?

Is it not always those with no or little choice that try to discredit all choices other than the ones they've made?

In a world chock-full of threats and with death looming behind every sunrise, in a world full of war, disease and unforeseeable dangers what a waste to spend it all in imitation, in paying for ones right to participate and in subjugation to common ambitions.

Being someone that now is considered "mature" and being one that has a vivid recollection of my childhood past, I am often dismayed by the complete boredom and repetitive interests of those in my age group.
It appears that living the common life-styles isn't as interesting or as meaningful as many believed it would be.

Life now has become an endless struggle to escape monotony and to fill the few instances of free-time with excitement and wonder that came so easily in the past.

Our existence now a scampering run to fulfill our obligations, to meet our responsibilities, to pay our bills, to become "good" citizens.
But what is our responsibility to ourselves?
If we were to die tomorrow, will we have lived at all?"

• The decline of any civilization is but an inevitable consequence of attrition; its success results in the circumstances of its own demise.
This is so because success eliminates the resistance that made it necessary and it exterminates the challenges that would keep it fit.
The same thing can be said about individuals or any unit of singular purpose.
For what is a person but a culture of molecules and a civilization of drives?

• One of the consequences of this decline is that the whole ceases to inspire or to discipline its parts to a single Will.
The parts become disenchanted, as weakening central control creates distances between the one from the many.
Rebellion ensues as pieces disentangle themselves from the entirety and become cancerous by attracting others of their kind to them.
We can see some of the effects of these phenomena in modern western societies, as their authority wanes and their earlier dominance fade.
Decadence is one such effect, as a culture's moral fabric dwindles and individuals are cast free into the void.

• Free-Spiritedness is a natural occurrence within any unity for, every so often, a part of the whole, either due to dysfunctional design or an overabundance of resistant energy, fails to be indoctrinated harmoniously.
As the central controlling strength is weakened rebelliousness and free-spiritedness cease to be unique or a special circumstance but increasingly becomes commonplace as the whole deteriorates into nothing.
Its parts might reconstitute themselves into new unities or they will be obliterated or they will be absorbed into other stronger unities.
Ironically, freedom is another sign of deterioration and decadence, as excess liberty of the parts constitutes the whole superfluous.

• Just like a plant needs protection, support, nourishment and direction to survive its early delicacy and to harden its own rooting core and stem so that it becomes resistant to external elements, so it is for any living entity.
If these needs are not met early on the plant perishes or is warped or it atrophies, never reaching its full height or it mutates into something different from the original design.
What better explains current mutations and atrophying psychologies than this?
The loss of respect for authority, the absence of belonging and the psychological anxieties cultural decadence breeds is more evident within the young who are more desperately in need of guidance and a disciplining power.

• Manifestations of cultural decline amongst the populace- disregard for authority, exaggerated autonomy, directionless undisciplined striving, anger and bitterness towards all forms of control, a lack of moral fibber and/or respect towards everything including self, the need to latch onto counterculture and cultish ideals to replace the old ones or a need to rediscover old institutional ideals, a distancing from the norm and a desire to paint themselves with the colors of revolt, a rampant pessimistic cynicism to excuse participation, self-hatred, indifference to political participation, absence of ambition, social parasitism and lethargy, an obsession with destructiveness, a grasping onto any firm ground no matter its absurdity, a superficial engagement with life, an inability to appreciate the joy of simple living.
All these are attestations of cultural decline.

• Institutionalisation- The institutional mind is characterized by a complete inability to function outside a domineering and authoritarian structure.
In sophisticated social structures the ordered predictability, relative safety and efficiency it imposes become addictive to its participants.
This addiction sometimes has effects on an individual's daily habits and rituals where any source of chaos and disorderliness causes anxiety and stress.
As the sheltering environment of the social structure diminishes the primordial instinctual drives are rekindled within a body unable to tolerate them or defuse them because now it has been domesticated.

• Boredom is a by-product of social structure.
The mind, evolved for more unpredictable and stressful environments, must be diverted through surrogate means.
Excessive work, ubiquitous entertainment, available legal and illegal medications and sexual promiscuity are some of the alternative diverting methods.
Fatigue a placating mechanism where the mind is drained of its energies and leisure becomes a luxury to be earned.

• Deinstitutionalisation- As the bars rust and the walls crumble, through neglect, the guards become complacent and sleep in the shadows.
Those that were once shackled suddenly find themselves in the open air surrounded by horizons of direction.
This is when some turn back in horror and try to rebuild the very walls that kept them in before.
Some go mad and cannot deal with the solitude of independence and the responsibility of choice.
The rest turn desperately to one another for comfort. Through this new alliance they build stronger structures using the lessons of the past as a guide and become more efficient jailers.

• Reason- The source of disillusionment and the loss of contentment can be found in the rebellious nature of reason.
It resists the incarceration of the body and the jurisdiction of instinct is questioned.
This conflict frees reason from the precinct of body but it then leaves it destitute scanning its surroundings for direction.

• Like all forms of resistance its success or failure is determined by its ability to conceal itself, by its ability to find fertile ground to grow in and its ability to adapt and alter strategies as the circumstances demand.
At times these strategies are more productively directed towards the self.

• The fate of every unpopular rebellion is that it becomes a caricature of itself and is mocked by all not touched by its spirit or its concerns.

• Schopenhauer believed that music was the purest expression of the underlying universal Will.
Given this very eloquent appraisal it would be easy to assume that the type of music an individual connects with most accurately represents the reverberations of his inner Will.
Consequently rebelliousness is most profoundly echoed through the angered energy and unyielding crescendo of the music it prefers.

The greatest tragedy inflicting man today is his need to escape truth in order to come to terms with it. This romantic escapism blurs reality until it is indiscernible from fantasy and replaces reason with the naïve creations of the inexperienced imagination.

But how rarely reality meets fantasy and truth remains loyal to expectation; in the end there is no escaping our existence not even ignoring it can erase its dominion over us.
We both face it and come to terms with it or we remain forever victims of our adolescent insecurities.

I wander about in the jungles of perception looking for things I do not know yet, seeking for things I need but am not aware of, hunting for prey to feed my want for self.

I gather experiences in my travels and use my intellect to gain some control over my uncontrollable existence and a focus for my searching mind.

I crave knowledge because only this gives me the power to maintain some degree of contentment in a universe abhorring the stagnation this may lead to and forever pitted against its finality.

There is nothing I own but my ephemeral thoughts; one replacing the other in a constant flow of consciousness building as a river fed through tiny streams.

This river I attempt to harness and guide so that I become master of my own being and not a simple puppet dancing to a gaudy tune played by others.

All I posses is on loan and will be given back one day, so it is not to be valued beyond its temporary contribution to my desires. Even the constant thoughts- I call me - will be lost in time unless I pass them on to others and feed them into other rivers that will in turn be fed into still other rivers.

Hopefully there will be an ocean to finally wash into somewhere down the line so that all this pain and suffering, this struggle can have purpose.
There is no truth I hold in absolute certainty; I am too weak and feeble, too easily impressed and horrified, too ignorant and temporal to have the clarity of logic required to achieve absoluteness. Yet to strive towards it is all I can do with my precious and limited time, for it is the only thing that offers any transcending meaning to my life.

My only pride is gained through being more aware than the other, more wise, more reasonable than my brothers and sisters, but even this is based on a preprogrammed instinct I fight to overcome.

I refuse to give into emotion, both positive and negative, because one cannot separate the two. If one wants to be unaffected by insult one must also give up the superficial pleasures of flattery.

I refuse to give into ego and become ensnared in my own mind. Ego is only the flame that drives me and like all flames it can burn me if embraced completely.

I refuse to be indoctrinated into social, economic, cultural and religious dogmas that attempt to harness my spirit for their own benefits.
I will play the game open-eyed and knowing.

I refuse to be a slave to a larger whole and a blind follower of false ideals.
This may offer a shallow happiness to the ignorant and comfort to the clever but both are prisoners to the system.

I call no man master and ask to be the master of none but myself.
Companions are welcomed just as long as they do not strive to control or dominate me or to raise barriers before my goals.

I will use the stupidity of others to accomplish some happiness and experience some pleasure in an existence I neither chose nor built. But I will not judge myself or find pride in doing so. To dominate dogs and beasts is easy and to value yourself for doing so is to belittle your own persona. To become alpha male or female may be considered an achievement by some but to revel in the accomplishment is to become one with those you dominate; to find meaning in bestial pursuits of procreation and survival is to equate yourself with a common animal.
(Is a queen ant something to be emulated and worshiped? Should we admire a wolf pack leader?)

To dominate yourself and control your existence is the only thing worth striving for because only this can lead to true power and contentment.
"Man is to be overcome" Nietzsche said and I can think of no other more worthwhile endeavor.

I seek to overcome the only man I truly know: myself.
I am the wanderer.