wedding ruminations (II of II)

"Do I think I'll ever get married?" I don't know. It's something I want down the road, and honestly my own mood affects the way I answer the question. Mood plays a bigger role in the way we view the world than we often give it credit, and it affects the tempo of my own perception far more than I'd care to admit. Sifting fact from fiction is far more difficult than sifting the wheat from the tares, and we can't even get that right most of the time. When you boil everything down, what you have are experiences coupled with interpretations, these interpretations both integral to keeping the worldview supported and, at the same time, being born from the foundational worldview itself, with all its beliefs and the assumptions buried within those beliefs. And thus, you see, it's quite a pickle: when we try to understand the world, we're trapped within our assumptions: we interpret reality in light of our worldview, and by doing this we reinforce our worldview by discarding other interpretations foreign to the foundational perspective. It's no small wonder, then, that ignorance breeds itself so easily, and that naivety can take root with almost no effort at all; all it takes is a little hopeful optimism left unchecked, and in the same vein, despair can come from a little 'realistic' pessimism left unguarded. The point of all this is that my own thoughts on the subject--"Will I ever get married?"--aren't as logical as I'd like to think, and my own beliefs in the arena have less to do with the world as it is than with my own experiences and subsequent interpretations. And all this comes to a head with words a very brave and cherished friend spoke to me a year ago right before leaving for Africa: "Don't let your experiences be your god." 

"Fuck the past," he said. "Look ahead and move forward."

Easier said than done. And it may be because Mumford & Sons is playing on my IPOD player right next to me, but I have to admit: I'm scared of what's behind, and I'm scared of what's before. The weight of the unknown, the uncertainty of everything, the dark nature of epistemology, all of this strikes a match of fear in my heart. At times I wonder if something (more) isn't wrong with me: most people, it seems, are quite content to go through life without asking questions, without digging for the inconsistencies, without ever being bothered by the temporary and fleeting nature of all things. I'm comforted to know that such a cumbersome existential plight is common among INFPs such as myself. It's one of the little quirks of our personality (and INFPs, in general, have far more quirks than most other personality types). Nevertheless, over the last year I've sought to really embrace what Dylan told me, and through this a "philosophy of life" has been emerging, albeit jagged and broken at times, colored (again) by my moods. It's certainly not coherent all the way through, but if we're honest, most worldviews (if not all) share this trait. 

While this post is titled "wedding ruminations II" it has little to nothing to do with marriage at all; obviously, it's evolved (or devolved?) into something else entirely. And that's entirely okay. There was a day when I could never imagine life without marriage, a time when the very thought turned my blood cold. Companionship is a beautiful thing, something we are designed for (whether literally or figuratively), but just because it's a psychological and biological imperative doesn't make it guaranteed. If life is meaningless outside of that, then what are we left with? I certainly don't want to go down that route: looking 'round about the world, the canvas of heartache, betrayal, divorce and infidelity painted by peoples' selfishness, greed, and innately human natures makes such a declaration--that life without a full-flourished love is meaningless--a scary thing with nasty implications.

It's very possible I'll find a girl, fall in love, and live a long and loving life with her.

It's equally possible that none of that will happen.

It's possible that I'll fall in love and get married to only have her die in child-birth.

It's possible that I'll get married and then, down the road, get divorced.
It's quite possible that I'll get married, tragically die, and leave my wife a widow.

Of all the possible scenarios, falling in love and living a life of love and happiness seems one of the least likely (in the statistical scheme of things), albeit that which I crave (and strive for) the most. But if the laws of probabilities come to bear unfortunately on my life in this regard, what am I left with? Encompassing all of life around a single dream, a single ambition, is a ridiculous thing to do in this world we live in. Perhaps it was for a reason that Ecclesiastes tells us to spread our bread upon the waters? 


In time my dream for a life of love with a wonderful woman may go the way of the dinosaurs, and I mean that quite literally: as my dream to become a paleontologist died, so, too, there may come a day when I fold this dream up and discard it as nothing more than wishful thinking. But that day has not yet come, and for better or worse I cling to this hope, though I do not, at least in some sense, expect it to come to fruition. I may very well be on the road to discarding this dream, but I have yet to reach that point. How long this dream holds out, who can say? Dreams are like bad habits: they're a bitch to kill.