Recent reading and investigation have inspired a wave of inner reflection and contemplation about the nature of my personal experience as a human person, and what exactly the point of it all might be in the first place. Clearly, the specific details of my personal life—the epoch into which my arrival on this planet took place; the long line of my ancestors which contributed to the eventual emergence of my recent familial relationships; the specific temporal circumstances which brought my parents together which produced myself along with seven other siblings; the complex machinations of my early life with all its trials and tribulations; as well as an enormously tumultuous lifetime of events, setbacks, educational diversity, and recent life experiences, has led me to conclude that every trail of temporal life is far more than simply the unfolding and unraveling of an individual human existence.
While it is, as a practical matter, unavoidable to acknowledge how most every event which took place prior to our assumption of responsibility for our own personal lives, contributed in important ways to our present circumstances, at some point we must assume the mantle of personal responsibility in the direction and character of our lives as an individual person.
It is a natural inclination to cite disadvantageous circumstances, lack of resources, and any number of deficits forced upon us by the element of chance in which our birth took place, but eventually, we must take the initiative to steer our course by our own volition, according to our acquired talents and capacities, and forge a unique pathway toward whatever goals and aspirations those gifts will permit, and to which we may ascribe some degree of meaning or purpose.
There are as many opportunities to discern what purpose we may wish to pursue and what degree of meaning might be possible as we move through life, as there are whatever number of days within which we are granted to be alive. There have been numerous periods of my personal life where it seemed to me that my choices were unfairly constrained by my circumstances, and perhaps any number of other times, where the choices I was able to make more deliberately, resulted in consequences which only complicated matters even more than they already were. In hindsight, there were also a number of times when what I supposed were disadvantageous events, turned out to be the very thing that enabled progress or achievement.
As I type these words, I am looking around at what now constitutes my personal writing space—a room filled with mementos, souvenirs, and collected items from decades of life events—and I can’t help but wonder exactly what it was I was thinking as I continuously gathered these keepsakes along the way. The majority of the available shelf space is understandably occupied by books of every sort, and as a writer, there isn’t any mystery to that development. I consume reading material almost as passionately as I delve into the subjects of my writing, and even as a young man in grammar school, I dreamed one day of having my own personal library, filled with books just like in the images of famous writers, poets, and philosophers that I admired all throughout my educational experiences growing up.
At last count, there were about 300 books in this space, and it’s starting to get difficult to locate particular selections, even though they are grouped generally by subject for the most part. There just isn’t enough room to efficiently store them except into numerous piles of related subject matter. (There are upwards of forty books situated on the available space on my desk alone!)
I am currently attempting to get through several different offerings at my desk, a handful of volumes stored on my digital reading device (Nook), and two others on my nightstand. It may sound like a study in chaos theory, but it has provided me with an opportunity to read almost no matter where I am in the house at any given moment.
Complicating my storage issues are several hundred DVD’s, CD’s, books on tape, and several large file cabinets stuffed to the limit with writing files, reference materials, and clippings from decades of research in all the various subjects related to my writing efforts. It’s a challenge to find space for anything new, and I’ve begun sorting out many of the older resources and less frequently accessed materials into alternate storage locations in the house.
While it all may sound a bit daunting, I generally take great solace in being surrounded by the memorabilia and reminders of days gone by, and occasionally, on any number of rainy days, when my schedule permits, I spend some time reviewing some portion of the avalanche of relics and tokens from my travels, and it is always a pleasant diversion whenever I rediscover some gem among the stones. Also, I keep a photograph on my computer desktop of Albert Einstein’s desk taken shortly after his death, which reminds me of the way my own desk appears on particular days.
In the weeks and months to come I hope to resume posting about the subjects of importance to me currently, and with luck, maybe produce a few more videos in my series on consciousness, informed by some excellent offerings in my recent reading selections, which I will review and discuss…
***more to come***
John's Consciousness 