Growing Panes

I marvel sometimes at how my point of view regarding things changes as as I...mature (I almost said "age"...the two words aren't necessarily synonomous). I suppose it is to be expected. Experience is supposed to teach you what to expect. So logically experience teaches you to rethink your expectations. So you look at things differently after you've been through them a few times.

This is not to say I consider myself a particularily wise man. I just look at things differently than I did when I was...less experienced (I almost said "younger").

Now looking at things differently doesn't necessarily mean I don't occasionally repeat the same mistakes even after having experienced something that one would think would make me try a different tactic. This mainly involves engaging my mouth before my brain. You'd be amazed at how much faster my mouth is than my brain. I know I am.

I've always had this uncanny ability to be able to blurt out a response to something that, although occasionally quite funny, is often inappropriate or ill timed. Why? Because my brain is usually still reviewing the pros and cons of what I am considering saying while my mouth is already dashing out the door with it like a male dog unleashed on the neighbors poodle in heat. The results are initially quite satisfying but ultimately can lead to a high degree of unanticipated ugliness when the puppies are born.

I'm not even sure where that analogy came from, but it oddly fits (or fits oddly).

Fortunately when I was a child, in addition to having a quick tongue, I also had quick feet to run when what I'd say would sink into my brother's slower brains.

When I got older (yes older) and slower, I learned to control my penchant for blurting things out by mumbling. That way only people with very keen hearing can understand what I'm blurting out. In school this often caused problems for anyone sitting next to me in class. They would burst out laughing at something inappropriate I'd interject regarding the teacher and then get the brunt of the teacher's anger for interrupting the class. I would just sit there smiling angelic-like until I found another opportunity to mumble a wisecrack.

This coping mechanism has stayed with me as an adult in the business world. I get bored easily at meetings and mumble uncontrollably at times. The unfortunate side effect is that my normal speaking voice seems to have become one big mumble. Tess is always asking me to repeat things. Depending on the topic of my mumbling I normally just say in a slightly louder voice, "Oh nothing."

Perhaps this is why I became a writer. It allows me think a bit longer before I speak and it is difficult to mumble when you write. The closest thing there is in the written word to mumbling is gibberish (and some bloggers have turned gibberish into an artform).

Unfortunately, electronic communications have chipped away at that lag time writing used to provide us between thinking and speaking. E-mail (and blog comments) allow us to type before we think. But this is where experience kicks in (I bet you were wondering if there was a caboose to this train of thought). I have learned to type my unthinking responses and then think about them before I hit send. Then in most cases I do the right thing and hit "delete."

I wish I had a delete key for my mouth.

Match Point

I'm actually amazed at the number of phrases in the English language that contain the word "point," especially when you make a point to use them.

See!

By the way, a moot point is not one that isn't worth talking about. It means a point that is open to debate. I thought that was kind of interesting. I just wanted to point that out.

See!

One thing you may have noticed about me if you've read my blog for any length of time is my tendency towards obsessiveness about topics. Once I'm going down the path with one I have a hard time letting it go without making as many pointed remarks as possible.

See!

I think I've made my point.

Vanishing point

It does seem pointless at times to try and make a point. Points are fleeting at best. Even the sharpest points are mutable with time and experience. Case in point, the meaning of life. I think it changes depending upon what point you are in your life.

I realize I'm probably not scoring any points with those people who are used to fixed points or are expecting a thousand points of enlightenment. All I can do is point you in the right direction. At that point you are on your own.

BTW, the photo above is not an example of Pointillism.

The point of meaning...

In a recent comment, Hayden questioned the purpose of searching for meaning in life as opposed to (and I paraphrase) simply being. It is a good question. Do we need to know the meaning of our existence to exist? Or do we need simply need to exist to have meaning?

Why is it that good questions always seem to raise more questions than answers? I have been sitting here pondering whether I actual seek meaning in life or whether I simply live. I know I have admitted that I accept who I am becoming, but is that the same as accepting why I am here?

I think it is impossible to live a life that doesn't somehow intersect or impact others. Whether you believe you are a world unto your self or the world is your oyster, the very act of living is subject to cause and effect. Even if you are a lump that never moves, you breathe your share of air and produce your share of waste matter. Shit really does happen. And one man's shit is another man's fertilizer.

I'm not a big believer in randomness. Just look at Fibonacchi numbers. It is a number system modelled after the rate at which rabbits muliply (have babies, not do times tables). Fibonacchi numbers can be found throughout nature, including the spirals of pine cones. How random is that?

That old game called Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon involved trying to name any film actor in history and linking them somehow to Kevin Bacon, the actor. The game was a microcosm of that phenomenon of life that defies randomness and ties us somehow with everyone and everything else. Because like it or not, we are all connected somehow and in some way. So, I suppose a life may not have a point, but I believe it always has a meaning.