fuknukl

Everything is so subjective. Trying to judge another’s perspective based on your own observations and experiences. Trying to get across your own variation of the world, which doesn’t quite match another’s, and to which the other does not subscribe. So many people can’t seem to grasp subjectivity. Often it seems a wilful act, good old cognitive dissonance again. I think, therefore I am correct.

Trying to impose your ideas on another seems such a selfish, almost violent act. And as with all violence, it is born in fear. A fearful man may be an angry man, but an angry man is always fearful. The trick is to find the source of the fear, and dilute it, then the anger recedes. To spread understanding, not to promulgate one idea. But you can’t do this without awareness of subjectivity. I can’t see their perspective, so I can’t understand them, so I am afraid.

I often wonder at how things turn can turn on a moment. Often simple things, happen stance, one thing seen or heard, another not. A whole life can turn about face though one sheer coincidence and the decisions that follow. I wonder at how much of a choice there really is in peoples decisions, at the determinism that is mostly unseen. The appearance of choices that really are no such thing. I wonder at how my life was changed drastically through simple decisions to do or follow up one thing, and not to follow another.

Where would I be but for those moments? Could I have done other than I have? I don’t really know, but I know I dream of a different life lead, a life that I might have been happy and proud of. To start again this late in life, though I don’t feel or look old, feels strange, almost surreal. I wish I knew then what I knew now; so many people have voiced that through human history in one form or another. I’m still getting used to this current life, and I’ve made a few false starts, but I’m improving. There is so much left to do. The past is what it is.