Redefine

Five seconds ago, I decided two words will now form my new basis for interpreting the world. I don’t know or care if these words currently exist, because my limitless creativity doesn’t have time for issues like that.

Subreal – the normal state of affairs which experience has taught us to expect. While often mildly disappointing, repeated failures have taught us to accept this as the status quo. For example, “Stuart woke up, and he became overwhelmed as he realised how subreal his day-to-day life was. This induced a surreal feeling of nausea.”

Supereal – the ideal, dream realm that we want to live in, but have never truly believed is achievable since the age of seven. While this currently resides in our imagination, it desperately wants to break into our mundane routine. “But, decisively swallowing all rising stomach acids, Stuart fixed his eyes on the supereal. One day, he would earn 22k a year, and all his problems would evaporate. Accordingly, he fell on his knees and prayed to the God of heaven.”

Obviously, there is the possibility to extend these concepts beyond the form of nouns. Currently considering starting a new branch of philosophy: subrealism vs superealism. Applications will open soon, but there will be an initial, £50 administration charge.

Before the intellectual world gets destroyed by shockwaves of revelation, I’ll explain the unique set of circumstances which birthed this revolution. For the past few days I’ve been sick, especially on Thursday. This meant that my innocent decision to eat tomato soup resulted in significant, digestive upheaval. I they lay in bed for an interminable amount of time, both fatigued, and slightly shocked at having vomited for the first time in eight years.

During this lapse, I realised that my inactivity seemed to be having little effect on my long-term goals. While I had to miss a day of work, by focusing on simple tasks, like cleaning my teeth, I was able to see past my illness. This made it bearable, even though spending most of Friday deciding whether or not to watch Pacific Rim isn’t the most productive use of time.

Being so focused on how I’m using every moment to it’s maximum capacity, I often forget how a positive mindset is crucial to achieving real change and process. While I can’t mooch in my bed forever, I don’t feel like my life has been catastrophically hampered by this ordeal. Maybe it’s best when reflection occurs naturally, rather than in engineered coffee stops.

Back to basics

Spent most of last Saturday curled up in a ball on the floor of an overcrowded train carriage, on my way to and from my brother’s birthday celebrations; I wonder if my spinal column will ever recover from the damage. However, due to a sudden illness, we were deprived the key ingredient of his company. In his absence, I was still overwhelmed by the constant presence of football fans, in every location I visited, at all times.

For the first time in years, I’ve been properly practicing my instruments, in preparation for an audition to a music course I want to apply to. Flashbacks to hours spent as a child sat in front of a piano, especially during Sixth Form, where all my free time would be devoted to music. I’ve grown so used to playing piano standing up, it’s fascinating how different it is sitting down, and how much easier certain techniques are.

I happened to read Revelation 7 a few days ago. Amongst various praise explosions is the phrase, “The Lamb will be their shepherd; he will lead them to streams of loving water.” This reminded me of the famous Psalm 23, which David wrote.

I think many people view heaven as a destination, but the emphasis in this passage is a future journey. It says in Psalm 102, “The heavens are the work of your hands… They will all wear out like a garment. Like clothing you will change them and they will be discarded.” So what many people consider to be the final page, to God is a worn-out pair of jeans.

In a description of the end of all creation is this phrase about a revelation of worship David had thousands of years ago. I don’t know why such large demonstrations of pain and bloodshed in the time that lies between are necessary to grasp such a simple concept.

Patterns

Over the past few weeks, I’ve discovered one of my favourite pastimes is finding patterns, something I’m so fond of I can find little time to do anything else. Every experience, thought and feeling I have undergoes rigorous testing and interrogation, in the hope of answering the question: “Why has this happened, to me, right now, and how should I react?”

This enquiry is so inherent in my thought processes, it’s taken me ages to realise that it exists, and also that such analysis is not carried out by every member of our species. Recently, measuring how my future spirituality, career, friendships and relationships should pan, and trying to draw them into a coherent entity has taken up almost all my energy. As this has been mostly internal, it’s been extremely difficult to communicate this externally. How can you tell someone that you’re assessing the fundamental values of everything you hold dear, when even your preferred methods of communication are being thrown into doubt?

The other evening, I asked myself for the first time, “What if there isn’t a pattern?” It’s true, many things that happen to us are meaningless, at least in the sense that they had no positive or negative intent. I don’t believe in a supernatural, micromanaging deity, or people are always trying to exert influence over any other person or situation. The majority of the countless actions and gestures that are enacted each and every moment of every day, are no more than random occurrences.

But such a train of thought can only lead to apathy. However trivial day-to-day life may appear, I want to capture every possible moment of beauty available. The mundane can be constantly surprising. Even though I walk the same route into town every time, I am consistently surprised and overwhelmed by small details: facial expressions, the curves of roads, building aesthetics, and the sun shining through trees.

Conversely, I have also found times of artistic immersion, such as trips to the cinema, and album listening sessions, to be not only enjoyable, but essential. Such periods allow me to realign myself to what is most important. In the same way it’s important not to live in a fairy tail, I don’t want to stop hoping for the perfect ideal.