day 113

The stupid things that we do,

sigh

Every stupid thing that we do.

smile,

For the most part, I used to think that being stupid, or at least, being ignorant was a cardinal sin that had to be atoned with a diligent study of ancient texts and contemporary theories. (That part still holds true when I'm not alert to my impulses.) The perfect reminder to our self-made importance is an already cliché statement - ignorance is bliss.

Of course, some self-consciousness of our own ignorance can only be achieved through a spell of profound edification from our daily exposure and experience, humbled by the very mundane unfolding of patterns, accidents and/or a combination of the two. In short, ignorance is not possible without some degree of knowledge - I know I am stupid.

To know how you are stupid begins knowledge, as much as knowledge begins ignorance. Never mind the genesis of things, but we will do really well to know that in exchange for bliss, this process of ongoing paradox must reach a kind of aporia - which is a simple bind that makes us thirst for more. Always a becoming, a knowing and not a Known or a Said. I think that's a wonderful concept. But I also know that I'm too stupid to fully understand what that means as a lived concept.

The truth is, we are dumb. The ways in which we do, inevitably, the stupid things we tell ourselves never to do. And not do, the things we tell ourselves to do. Or, we do bits of this and that, and not complete the task in its entirety and utter satisfaction. But again, we'll do well to acknowledge that.

Contrary to the opinion of condemning ignorance, we can still find some worth in our ignorance (we're definitely ignorant, some how or another). We can believe that our ignorance is in part a response to the unpredictability of our future. We can think how it feels like to live, in some blind and trembling way, how simple and terrifying it is, that we do not know. And perhaps, that allows us to have some better sense of our finitude, and thus, the people and things that matter to us.

So ignorance makes us feel - Love. It is love that does not allow us to thematize and philosophize. (Philosophy cannot talk about love, because it is already a love for wisdom and nothing else). It is to know that I'm so ignorant, I actually know that I will definitely do something stupid (and wrong) and still, with love, be forgiven for that ignorant act.

So it does not matter if we walk with a trip and in a blurred manner since we'll still get to somewhere. We can love with a blindness that does not repeat the moment of knowledge. We won't end up biting our tails - we'll leap out of the loop and pop like bubbles, safe in the knowledge of our ignorance that love takes care of things, of people, or a combination of the two.

So bear with your ignorance sometimes. It may just lead you to a bliss that cannot be defined.

Love,