The movie of life
I go on and on about the folly of trusting word meaning. Yet, I write. That feels odd, if not hypocritical. How do I get away with that, and still maintain intellectual honestly? That isn’t difficult really. Indeed, it is no different than being engrossed in a movie, and yet knowing that it is ‘make believe’ — an illusion. In the case of a movie, I suspend belief for a while. In writing, I suspend disbelief for a while. I trust word meaning as it exits my consciousness and lands on this computer screen. After that, there are no guarantees. I suppose it all depends on what I want to see.
I experienced both sides — that of a believer and now of a disbeliever. The latter is more comfortable by far. Why didn’t I opt for disbelief sooner? As far as I can tell, believing in anything, even raw word meaning, gives us a cognitive sense of security — a fortress of belief if you will. The drawback is that belief establishes a range of opposites, a yin to every yang, or vice versa. The result is endless contention, making chapter 81’s The holy person’s way acts, and yet doesn’t contend a bridge too far. Belief offers us a fortress to hide within; disbelief offers a bridge over which to cross to the The gateway of the manifold secrets, as chapter 1 hints.
Interestingly, when I get emotional, my visceral belief in word meaning increases. The same occurs if I seriously feel a movie I am watching. I suppose life is like a movie, and emotion is the real power behind the throne of word meaning. Life never ceases to fascinate.
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