This is a part II to the previous post, which I felt was incomplete, but that I posted anyway because I couldn't quite figure out how to reconcile what I was really relaying.
I have been reading a lot of science-based non-fiction lately. It started by watching Cosmos which re-ignited a piece of my brain that had laid dormant for a while - scientific inquiry. I always really liked science in high school. Science AND math actually. They provide answers to problems in a tidy way that just makes you feel accomplished. I have been waaaay out of that scene for a while though, so my skills of actually completing any sort of mathematical equations would be very compromised at this point without some serious remediation.
The book I am currently reading on this subject, "You Are Here: A Portable History of the Universe," by Christopher Potter, is more of a history of science, specifically science dedicated to understanding the universe. The author was in a related field, but personally had some issues with understanding his "place in it all" and the point of what he was doing. And I think that philosophical inquiry regarding our understanding of, well, our understanding of everything, is key to actually being able to understand! Haha. Confusing. But Socrates was able to formulate this idea over 2,000 years ago too - All I know that I know nothing. We've come further into our knowing, but we still don't know anything. It's like we have gathered more puzzle pieces but we still don't know what the puzzle will look like once we snap them all together. Hell, we have like half a face and 3/4 of the border and we're still squinting at it like a damn magic eye picture, trying to figure out what the fuck we're looking at (also, for the record, I can't see ANYTHING in those magic eye pics, so I might be useless when it comes to figuring out what the universe IS or ISN'T). And I am not saying we shouldn't be collecting those puzzle pieces. We just can't get bogged down that the puzzle will solve ANY earthly concern for us in the grand scheme of things.
Potter discusses the "standard theory" of the universe and how messy it is. How it can almost be nothing in the end since it's so nebulous and seemingly disjointed. I haven't finished the book yet, but even so far throughout, he has been pointing out how little we really know. Or how un-definitive our attempts have been to make sense of the universe. We have the atom, we break it open. We have the smallest particles we think we can find, we find smaller ones. We have anti-particles, theorized particles, and a slew of unanswered questions cropping up for each question we do happen to answer. The physicists looking for a "unifying theory" are looking for "god" in numbers. And it strikes me as funny because I doubt they'd believe that to be true, but it's why someone like Sam Harris is so laughable to me. I can't take this genius of neuroscience seriously when he talks, and especially when he criticizes religion and spiritual leaders, because he's so full of shit. He's positing a new vision of god - just one that he can back up with numbers.
Math is the "universal" language, but it's not something that exists out in the wilds of nature. It's a recognizable pattern that HUMANS imposed on something that has existed without explanation since before our appearance on this planet. So what if the Fibonnaci sequence makes sense with this series of numbers? We figured that out after the fact of its existence. Nature is the ultimate existence precedes essence.
Once you stop looking for god in math and science, in spiritual realms, in others, even in yourself, that's when everything starts making sense because you realize that nothing does. The unity is the experience of living more than anything else. From person to person, those experiences aren't ever the same, and will never be- so the endless judgments we cast only makes our shared interactions painful. But we can overcome these tendencies somehow. I have a hard time knowing exactly how. I keep trying to express love and understanding, only to find myself getting stuck in the rut of a hate-fest and cycles of frustration and despair. What I keep coming back to is that ultimately, the goal is to live and not simply to avoid death, which is a scary thought because living entails risks and potentially death. But if I cozy up in my home eternally, or even just never extend myself to try and break down walls both physically and mentally between myself and others, well, then what good am I? Any suggestions are welcome.
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