This article from Wired puts into language the lightness I feel when I read stories of others’ trials and struggles, the openness I get when I look into the sky and remember the scale of my life.
It also raises questions I’ve asked myself when considering how much to examine things: Too much analysis, dwelling, can paralyze. Yet never doing so would prevent me from learning and growing. With varying degrees of sway, I’ve mostly stayed in the middle.
Funny, just reading the article made me feel good – to see my way of dealing with life experiences as merely a measurable aspect of my personality. The other issue I have, though, is the aspect of inhumanness that comes with a sense of detachment and perspective. Like I’d be missing some essential part of being.
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1 comment:
"Paralysis through Analysis." It's a cliche I've heard many times, and often see in action. An old friend once told me that "Kell's a bastard to Kell.", meaning that I judge myself more harshly than I judge others. I've often thought it may be a way of internally rationalizing my extremely critical nature, my nitpicking, my anti-charisma. It has taken a long time for me to be accepting of my idiosyncracies and my idiocies, to forgive myself for being "a dope". I had to experience half a lifetime of dopiness to appreciate that we are all a bit dopey, and that is why we have the word "accident" and "apology".
I worry about the more extreme version of the self-forgiving, those who never apologize because apologies are a sign of weakness. You are a thinker, not a dweller. You do, but you also dream. You know how to let things go, and not let them engulf your life.
Division of peoples into these arbitrary groups is a useful experimental method, but should not be extended beyond the boundaries of the experiment to develop conclusions about human nature. We love to seek and discover patterns, and many times they are imaginary, and like the denizens of the constellations, simply the view from our limited perspective.
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