Nothing can rival that feeling in the morning, when you’ve just woken up and you’re stretching in bed with last night’s dreams still fresh in mind, lazily contemplating the shadows on the ceiling, knowing you don’t have to get up for the world.
It’s beautiful, that feeling of calmness and peace when you know your day is your own and you can do with it as you please. You can get up when you want or not get up at all. It’s all up to you - no kids, no husband, no family, no job, no obligations whatsoever. You want to stretch that moment of piece and quite for as long as you can, for eternity, because you know it is so rare, like a diamond in muck. You want to take that moment of serenity and keep it out of time, for yourself, forever.
I loved this morning. Although I knew it couldn’t last, perhaps because I knew it couldn’t last, I loved it. After the exertion of work the last few weeks, the running around, trying to do everything right, I needed just such a morning as this.
It’s strange how different my honeybunny and I are in some things – he can’t understand the joy of doing nothing.
But it isn’t the doing nothing part that is appealing, it’s the contemplating while doing nothing that is. Contemplating… everything. The loveliness of the morning. The joy of being alive. Breakfast. Symbolic meanings of dream visions. Showering over taking a bath. Why only our male neighbors walk their tiny dogs, and never their wives. The pointlessness of vacuuming the house. Gravity. Whether our cat will go crazy from confinement. Does God really care if I don’t go to church this Sunday. Little things like that I find myself thinking of while I stare at the empty white ceiling not seeing it at all.
What’s the point of that, what’s the purpose?
I’d be much more useful cleaning the house and bringing order to this chaos that surrounds me. (honeybunny, I hope you never come home unannounced – you are the creature of order while I, apparently, am the creature of chaos; what this place looks like while you’re not here would distress you most gravely :))
While thinking without purpose apparently has no use, I find it necessary. I think that reflecting on the inconceivable things such as love, God, death or the purpose of life is what in actuality makes us human. Imagining the unimaginable, as ludicrous as that sounds.
I think that without abstract thoughts we would be no better than any animal on Earth.
That we would have none of this lovely civilization goodness that surrounds us.
I cannot understand people that do not think, that do not pose questions with no tangible answer.
I mean, I know there is no purpose to thinking about what lies behind the universe, or what is the true nature of God, or what is the essence of nothingness, but I think that such questions should nevertheless be posed.
I don’t know why, but this striving towards the stars and pursuit of all knowledge is, I believe, essential to a good life.
I was reading Russell again, and there is an interesting thing he says about expanding ones knowledge: