The Big Questions...
Posted: July 16th, 2009, 11:43 pm
This afternoon my wife told me something about my son. Something he had told her one day when they were talking.
This was after we made love - she came home early from work - and we sat naked on the edge of the bed afterward and talked about literally everything for, like, two hours, our conversation roaming far and wide, hither and yon, up and down and all around. After sixteen years together we actually still do that. Like two people on a first date.
She said he said sometimes when he needs to eat he stands up and gets a headrush, feels lightheaded, and all the sudden questions are in his head. Questions like, "Who am I?" "Why am I here?" "What am I doing?' and "Who is Haley?" (Haley is his girlfriend.)
These are the Big Questions, are they not? Don't we all seek answers to these questions and others? Others like, "What is truth?" and "Who decides?"
Is this not the purpose of being human, the quintessence of the human condition, to at least ask if not answer these questions? For can any answer ever be anything more than entirely subjective? And it seems to me that this is the purpose of the questions. Not to ask or answer them for all, but to ask if not answer them for one: you, yourself, and no one more. It struck me as I listened to my wife after we made love that it's not so much the answering that matters but the asking. That this is what it is to be alive: to ask. And that this is the human condition, as it must surely be the alien condition, the same throughout the space-time continuum, the universal field of consciousness, the Great Mind, that to be alive is to ask the Big Questions. And I was happy to understand this. To simply ask is enough. The answers can wait. The answers I can wait for.
"Nobody wants to die," I told my wife. "But everyone does." "Just like nobody wants to lose, but everyone does at one time or another." "Oddly enough," I said, "I'm not afraid to die." This after she expressed fear for how long I would be with her. Then I said, "No one ever dies. Because always there is someone who remembers them." Even for the most heremtical hermit this is true.
I think the reason I'm not afraid is because of this vague understanding that it's the asking of the Big Questions that matters and not the answering.
The answers will wait for me.
And I can wait for them.
Peace,
Barry
PS: Okay, so I talked about it.
This was after we made love - she came home early from work - and we sat naked on the edge of the bed afterward and talked about literally everything for, like, two hours, our conversation roaming far and wide, hither and yon, up and down and all around. After sixteen years together we actually still do that. Like two people on a first date.
She said he said sometimes when he needs to eat he stands up and gets a headrush, feels lightheaded, and all the sudden questions are in his head. Questions like, "Who am I?" "Why am I here?" "What am I doing?' and "Who is Haley?" (Haley is his girlfriend.)
These are the Big Questions, are they not? Don't we all seek answers to these questions and others? Others like, "What is truth?" and "Who decides?"
Is this not the purpose of being human, the quintessence of the human condition, to at least ask if not answer these questions? For can any answer ever be anything more than entirely subjective? And it seems to me that this is the purpose of the questions. Not to ask or answer them for all, but to ask if not answer them for one: you, yourself, and no one more. It struck me as I listened to my wife after we made love that it's not so much the answering that matters but the asking. That this is what it is to be alive: to ask. And that this is the human condition, as it must surely be the alien condition, the same throughout the space-time continuum, the universal field of consciousness, the Great Mind, that to be alive is to ask the Big Questions. And I was happy to understand this. To simply ask is enough. The answers can wait. The answers I can wait for.
"Nobody wants to die," I told my wife. "But everyone does." "Just like nobody wants to lose, but everyone does at one time or another." "Oddly enough," I said, "I'm not afraid to die." This after she expressed fear for how long I would be with her. Then I said, "No one ever dies. Because always there is someone who remembers them." Even for the most heremtical hermit this is true.
I think the reason I'm not afraid is because of this vague understanding that it's the asking of the Big Questions that matters and not the answering.
The answers will wait for me.
And I can wait for them.
Peace,
Barry
PS: Okay, so I talked about it.