Once upon a time something happened that led me to unexpectedly and very suddenly find myself spending several days and nights in a place not mine. Having had no time for forethought concerning what should go in my suitcase, I quite literally threw in whatever came to mind. The result was what one would expect - toiletries, pyjamas, changes of clothes that didn't match, my laptop, the book I was reading, a toothbrush, forgotten deodorant - with one notable exception. I brought three DVDs. Specifically, I packed three of my favourite movies from from my childhood and teenage years, movies I know practically by heart: Labyrinth, The Dark Crystal, and The Princess Bride.
And before you ask, yes, I watched them. I watched all three of them within the next few days. At night before bed, when I could barely think and no longer recognized anything about my life, I watched those movies.
And they calmed me. I was comforted, reassured. They showed me things I recognized, places and people I knew, stories I believed in, truths that would not fail me.
That experience led me to reflect on my habit, generally, of watching things I've watched before. When looking at a list of movies to choose from, I am invariably drawn to the ones I've already seen. I often fight this urge, knowing that watching something new has the advantage not only of experiencing something different but also lengthening the list of movies I can then watch again. There are times, though, when only an old friend will do.
One of my most reliable friends is Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Clocking in at 144 episodes over 7 seasons, there are stories for every mood. It occurred to me one day as I was watching an episode (or five - I tend to binge), that perhaps this is the same mechanism regular readers of religious texts are exploiting. That is, the ability to find new meaning in old stories depending on one's state of mind, on one's most recent and relevant experiences, and on who one most wants to be at that specific moment in time.
Humans are meaning-seeking machines, and it seems to me that the desire and ability to seek new meaning in old stories is a particularly potent strategy to create some kind of order out of our ever-unpredictable lives.
Did you read Will's recent facebook note "Nagging half-formed question..." or is this coincidence?
ReplyDeleteI have not read Will's facebook note, in fact. Perhaps I should, I take it?
ReplyDeleteCool!
ReplyDeleteI'm slowly turning my thoughts into a thesis. These ideas have been rattling around in my head for a long, long time. The furthest back in my memory was my own dawning critical thinking moment--I was about 15. I realised that no matter how many books I read about UFO's, and no matter how many different colour pins I had, I'd never be able to track all the UFO sightings because no one would ever really know how many there were...
Soon after this I realised, thanks to Cosmos, there was no real evidence to even believe in UFO's. Thankfully I learned this through Carl Sagan, who also said that doesn't mean (a) you shouldn't play with the ideas and (b) that there isn't reason for looking...because no evidence 'for' doesn't mean 'cannot exist' (however improbably)...
So, I took down the map (I took the pins out first, another lucky epiphany), threw out the books, and started reading about way cooler stuff: science...in the vein of Sagan's, "Be aware of wonder."
I've never really found a need to apologise for believing in UFO's. I mean, until we do find evidence, they're way cooler. Pictures of the Eagle Nebulae are cool, but no where near as cool as the USS Enterprise flying through it!
This might seem totally off topic, but it left me with two impressions. One, stories are often way cooler than 'reality'; and, two, they serve as the basis--the motivation-- for what drives us to both look for evidence in the observable world, while not looking for it in our stories (unless, of course, you think believe in creationism...therefore, the Flinstone's is a documentary).
I do believe that many, many aspects of not just the world, but humans will be uncovered by the myriad of sciences studying these things. But,that being said, and as I tell my students, even if they find a gene/bio-chemical cascade/molecule for, say, 'love' it will not--in any way shape or form, alter the experience of it nor the desire to tell others about it.
I also think it is equally important to realise that there are wrong ideas and beliefs. People often confuse important to them with important to the world.
We're an amalgam of things and, so, there'll never be one right method. Its kind of a pick the right tool for the job thing.
...and, besides, who'd want it even if it was true..?