Understanding, or the illusion of it anyway, helps us sleep. As I gain shreds and shards of knowing – something is leaking in, as much as it is leaking in, to my consciousness. At first I thought it was a ‘finally’ grudging acceptance that people are not open, honest and forthcoming – often in sharp contradiction to what they espouse and credit themselves with. How many times do we hear people say ‘I’m being honest’, or ‘I’m being as honest as I can’ – and we roll our eyes, or want to, as we realize so many people keep two sets of books – that which they say ‘is honest’ and that which is truth? And we wonder why children grow up confused!
What fuels us sometimes fools us …
Life twists, rarely by design unless some fiction writer creates near-impossible highly improbable scenarios, reader or watcher experiencing surprise, perhaps enlightenment, moment(s) of revelation – when audience and character reach simultaneous ‘ah+ha!’.
Then, everything makes sense. Or is supposed to. But life – mine anyway, doesn’t unfold with ‘as it happens’ ah+ha’s – their wallop packin’ significance shows up eventually.
Most days re-ploughing familiar ground – routinely assessing situations or people with good memory and experienced eyes – thinking, ‘seen this before’, reacting to re-runs of familiar old movies – characters are different, location changed. Everyone’s motivation their own, often not completely revealed. Sets reality apart from fiction. In fiction, authors wants all to be revealed in onion-layer peeling fashion. Life’s not like that. Some people peel, while others cannot be penetrated no matter how deep you dig. Most layers are never revealed – and when they are, not chronologically, or even logically.
P.S.: saw an interesting film on Saturday: The Sense of an Ending – recommended for middle-aged thinkers who can’t always remember what happened a long time ago, or what they thought really happened ..
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