"When adults say 'Teenagers think they are invincible' with that sly, stupid smile on their faces, they don't know how right they are. We need never be hopeless, because we can never be irreparably broken. We think that we are invincible because we are. We cannot be born, and we cannot die. Like all energy, we can only change shapes and sizes and manifestations. They forget that when they get old. They get scared of losing and failing. But that part of us greater than the sum of our parts cannot begin and cannot end, and so it cannot fail." -John Green
This is yet another one of those quotes that launches all those who read it into the tiresome, and lengthy buisness of thinking. Not just thinking in general, of course, but thinking specifically about what I imagine to be the tangled fish web that exists in all of our heads, and consists mainly of why's, how's, and the answers we think we've found over the years. It is indeed a tangled web, so tangled that it puts the Christmas lights you've been storing in your attic for the past year and a half to shame.
Throughout my brief and chaotic time on this planet, I've discovered that my brain has two settings, with a sort of comfortable, gray area in between the two, where they merge and find harmony with one another. Way over on one side of this mental spectrum of mine is the attitude that there's far too much out there to think about, and that attempting to figure out even a fraction of it is not only a waste of time, but also an unnecessary stress. I'm here, and I will continue to be here until...well, until I am no longer here. Life, to this side of my brain, is just that simple, and pleasant. Why waste time staring up at the ceiling in my room, which never provides any satisfactory answers, mind you, when I could be dancing, singing, running, jumping, climbing, and a million other things that are all more enjoyable than wandering through the endless labyrinth of thoughts that exists within my head. This side of my brain lives by the motto that if someone gives you a flower, you don't sit and puzzle over why they did it until the flower withers and dies. You sniff it, place it in a vase of water, and enjoy it while you have it, never wasting a moment on chasing down an answer that you will never catch.
This side is pleasant enough, but it, of course, has its issues.
The other end of my mental spectrum is a much more focused, and detailed place. It's here that I store all of my thoughts on 'the big questions' such as: Why are we here? Where is here, in comparison to places that are not here? Are we alone? Who is this we? What put us here? How long have we been here? How long will we continue to be here? How have we ended up the way we are now? What did we start off as?
And a million other questions that transform the world around me from a simple painting come to life, to a giant mystery, with answers hidden under every leaf, and inside every star. There are answers I think I know, but probably don't. There are answers I am desperate to find, and answers I fear with all my being. Then, more often than not, there are answers that are so far out of my reach that I don't even know what questions I would need to ask to begin finding them, should I even want to.
This end of the spectrum is far more stressful, deep, and seemingly dangerous than the other. On this side, a blade of grass is not simply a blade of grass, but so much more, which is both great, and terrible. To forfeit simplicity in the name of greater understanding is sometimes a dangerous, and tiring thing to do, as it goes on and on, and one can never be sure if whatever it is one's trying to figure out actually has any answer at all. Then what? You've wasted your entire life searching for something that doesn't exist and never even mattered anyway, when you should've been more interested in just taking it all in, and not bothering about the who's, what's, why's, and how's of it? No. No, surely, life isn't like that. Surely, something we devote so much time to, day after day, cannot be a fruitless endeavor.
Well, that's just the thing, on this side of the spectrum, is that it can be. If there's one thing the analytical, over complicated, meticulously focused side of me knows, it's that I will never truly know anything. To know something is to have no doubt, and no uncertainty. I have never felt certain of anything I've ever discovered while lurking about on this side of the spectrum, but as unsatisfactory as even the greatest findings can be, seeing as they may seem right, but actually be ridiculously wrong, I still find that this end of my mental spectrum is no less great than the other. More stressful, time consuming, complicated and frustrating, yes, but also more rewarding in ways that cannot be explained through words, seeing as our language has not evolved that far yet.
As happy as I am to be alive, and to just exist in general, I must admit, it is just as heavy a burden as it is a gift, sometimes. The same goes for ignorance. It is a gift and a burden. The same goes for knowledge. It is a gift and a burden. This leads me to believe the life, ignorance, and knowledge are not all so very different from each other, and that one needs a fine balance of each to continue on existing in this world that we have always, and may never understand.
At the end of the day, I much prefer to place myself directly in the middle of that comfortable gray area I spoke of earlier. The area where each end of my mental spectrum of thought, or lack of thought, comes together in peaceful, beautiful, restful harmony. I never feel ignorant here, but I also never feel overwhelmed by all that there may or may not be. It is a good place to be. Which is why I end this blog post asking, what's your mental spectrum like, and do you prefer the gray area of it, should yours have one?
