Learning to Walk

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Well, like I said before, I went to school in Bangor. After high school, I did what was expected and went on to college. My parents wanted me to major in something ‘marketable’ but as something of an idealist, I choose to study philosophy. Besides, there was still grad school and I could still earn a ‘marketable’ degree. But at the time, I just wanted to explore and it seemed like philosophy would be an interesting way to find some direction. Classes were both interesting and deep - logic, existentialism, philosophical psychology. I couldn’t get enough.

In the shelter of academia, there weren’t a lot of other things the average student needed to think about, but I didn’t keep myself locked up like some cloistered monk. I went to a few parties and tried to fit in. However, the last thing any girl wanted to talk about was Plato’s Republic or how Aristotle’s ethics had become lost on a not so blind justice system. I took a class in Buddhism and found it refreshing that someone could follow a spiritual path without being compelled to answer to a divine authority. The concept of karmic law seemed more than reasonable to me. This idea states that we, as individuals, are responsible for the consequences of our actions and that our lives are guided purely by the decisions we make. But there’s a downside. As creatures possessed by humanness, we are incapable of seeing all possible outcomes for any one decision. So, although we can try to do our best, in the end, we’re still, more or less, flying by the seat of our pants. Then again, if we could see all the possibilities we would no doubt become consumed by them, and without uncertainty, the search for meaning becomes pointless.

Now, for some reason subjects like this weren’t generally well-received at social events where liberal amounts of alcohol were consumed. Either people weren’t interested or they were too incoherent to understand and I quickly became thought of as something of a nerd and found myself largely excluded from the campus social scene. I didn’t really mind. In fact, I found it rather difficult to relate to most people. I guess I was just in a different place than most. Not that I ever considered myself to be ‘special’, perhaps I just wandered onto a different path. I found it troubling when people began referring to me as being ‘different’. I didn’t really understand what that word was supposed to mean and eventually, I reached two conclusions. The first was that the word ‘different’, in this context anyway, was and will likely always be used by small-minded people. We all know people like this. They will never understand what makes you tick and because they seem to be so caught up in themselves, they will never give themselves the opportunity to find out who you really are. They have already judged you based on the perception that, for some reason, you just don’t fit in. The second conclusion I reached was that there’s nothing wrong with standing away from the crowd, refusing to follow the herd.

You don’t have to fit in and you should never bow down to the egos of those who stand at the tops of their ivory towers judging everyone but themselves. Eventually, I learned to not only accept the fact that I was somehow ‘different’, but to embrace it. I came to enjoy being as different as people saw me and felt as though a heavy weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I had spent a good portion of my life being resentful of the opinions most people had of me. Now, I just didn’t care anymore. Their opinions mean nothing to me. I can only live my own life, and they’re just going to have to figure things out on their own. So, what I guess this all comes down to are two simple words. f**k them. Not that I’m angry and please don’t mistake these words for hostility. It’s just that I’ve come to a place where I find it pointless to make a personal investment in people who will probably always see themselves as being better than everyone else.

I always seemed to have my head in a book, usually philosophy, history or literature. Not that there’s anything wrong with reading novels, it’s just that I see life as a learning process, a chance to grow. Besides, what’s the point of living if you’re burying yourself in other people’s fantasies? And I’m sure that my penchant for learning has cost me more than a few social opportunities. But, my college life wasn’t entirely devoid of socialization either. There were one or two girlfriends. I’m still not sure what they saw in me, but they must have seen something. Relating to girls was never something I was good at. Maybe it’s because my head always seemed to be somewhere else. In fact, I found it difficult to relate to people in general and I still do sometimes. I suppose that socialization is a constant learning process too. Some people would tell me that I think too much, and they’re probably right. My mind always seemed to focus on loftier things, but at some point, I started reading the news. A lot. I’m still not sure why. I always believed that the world sucks anyway. Maybe I began to feel a need to get connected, to raise my own awareness of why the world is the way it is.

I discovered or perhaps rediscovered, that civilization is in the midst of moral decline and no matter where you look money always seems to be at the center of it and I reached the conclusion that humanity is burying itself. We’re simply on our way out. It’ll be a very long process and who knows how the final stroke will arrive. Maybe we’ll go out fighting or, maybe we won’t see the end coming at all. I know this seems very pessimistic - even grim and some people might think that things can’t get any worse but I disagree. I think that things can and will get worse - much worse. And I’m sure that anyone who takes the time to see the world as it is would likely agree as well. The question is: is it too late? I honestly don’t know.