Kierkegaard...it doesn't get any better. My saturday began slightly sorrowful, wishing I were with friends at the beach, wishing I didn't have so much homework, wishing I could physically and emotionally allow myself to sleep, wishing my boyfriend was at least in the same state, wishing...this day away. You have reminded me, (ok, you're book reminded me because you have long been dead) that when you wish something, you inadvertently wish something away...and you don't get to pick what it is. What the hell am I talking about? If I continue to wish saturday away, and I get my wish, then I don't get to read your book...
This is what I found...
"What matters is to find my purpose, to see what it really is that God wills that I shall do; the crucial thing is to find a truth that is truth for me, to find the idea for which I am willing to live and die. Of what use would it be to me to discover a so-called objective truth, to work through the philisophical systems so that I could, if asked, make judgments about them, could point out the fallacies in each system; of what use would it be to me to be able to develop a theory of the state, getting details from various sources and combining them into a whole, and constructing a world I did not live in but merely held up for others to see; of what use would it be to me to be able to formulate the meaning of Christianity, to be able to explain many specific points-if it had no deeper meaning for me and for my life?"
Kierkegaard understands the depths of my desire to know myself, quite possibly more than anyone I've ever met. I go neurotic about this like, twice a week. So much so that I'm convinced he were still alive I would have to stalk him in person and on facebook and make him my bff. He describes above why I find so many people so stuffy. Religion is a mask to hide behind for so many people...so many seem to think that racking up degrees and dollar figures is the essence of life. It's an over-rated game that really makes me want to play in traffic. Now.
He goes on for pages after this paragraph about how in order to know the meaning of your life, you must first know yourself. Kierkegaard refers to an inward solace; diligently listening to your mind and knowing why it is you think that way...he talks about knowing the great things about yourself but mostly, knowing the worst things. He's sad that after years of quiet and consistent contemplation, he still feels alone and in the dark...but just as if it were my own journal, he realizes all at once that he alone is responsible for stirring up his own depression and is just the same responsible for overcoming it... He finishes with this..
"I will not lament the past-why lament? I will work energetically and not waste time in regrets, like the person stuck in a bog and first calculating how far he has sunk without recognizing that during the time he spends on that he is sinking still deeper. I will hurry along the path I have found and shout to everyone i meet: Do not look back as Lot's wife did, but remember that we are struggling up a hill."
Brilliant. Feeling sorry for our own poor understanding puts us no closer to understanding it, or better doing something about it! You just have to keep trying...because even though some hide it better than others, we're all "struggling up a hill."
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