"I do not know who put me in the world, nor what the world is, nor what I am myself. I am in a terrible ignorance about everything. I do not know what my body is, or my senses, or my soul, or even that part of me which thinks what I am saying, which reflects on itself and everything but knows itself no better than anything else." --Blaise Pascal
In earlier journal posts, I wrote of the mystery surrounding the writing act. This quote by Pascal represents my usual starting place when I come back to my writing project each time. It's true, not only when I'm in the early stages of a work, but throughout the process. It's true until I've typed "The End" and meant it. Even after I've typed "The End."
I think writings by people who are searching are different from those who "know."
On another note, I recently shared with a new internet acquaintance that I felt eternally confused, for the most part, about everything. This person responded:
From out here, from an electronic distance plus no doubt geographic distance, you don't appear "confused" at all. Instead you seem delicately sophisticated about, and respectful of, life's quandaries.
I think I'll memorize that one.
Photo Credit, "Puck" by Marga Hayes Ingram.
3 comments:
This is an interesting subject. Like in so many other areas of my life, there are areas about which I know nothing and accept that some will be areas of endless questing. There are others which I can accept that I cannot know and enjoy having that sense of grand mystery in my life. And there are yet more, where my sense of belief is so strong that "knowing" is unnecessary, because I belief surpasses knowledge in both strength and depth for me. Regardless of my level of ignorance, knowledge, belief or awe, I find beauty and reassurance in both the unknowable and the known.
oh,you definitely have to memorize that one!!!!!!!! You are a pure delight!! judi
I`m so happy to have found your Journal. I saw a comment at sistercdr`s that mentioned "mortality".
V
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