I am really happy to be here. I love this planet, I love this species, and I love this universe. Sometimes (often) I get so overwhelmed by this place that I feel like I am going to explode. Tonight my barriers holding the excitement back fell to the jumping, pacing, happy, overwhelmed Grayson within. First it was negligible senescence, then it was multiverse theory, then it was genetics, then neutron stars. I got excited and giddy as hell. I couldn’t even stay seated. I don’t know why it is that this happens. It is like a tick, crippling if held back.
I guess sometimes I cannot stand the monotony of conversations about new purses and clothes or the unfailing wishing away of precious life for minuscule moments of vacation. I don’t see this place that way, and I try to surround myself with people who share these similar values. But every now and then, I express myself to an unwelcoming crowd and I feel silly and embarrassed. People look at me with curious looks, sometimes wondering about possible drug use or alcohol consumption. They smile halfway wondering if my excitement is genuine or created artificially. It’s damn embarrassing and I feel like a fool. With friends, my pacing back and forth describing something new and interesting, is nothing out of the ordinary. To them, my behavior is normal and expected. It is only when my excitement spills into the “normal” world that it becomes strange and makes me feel embarrassed. My caring mother would likely advise me to restrict from displaying my excitement from the public. It is not that easy though.
I can’t understand how anyone could content themselves with monotony and mundanity? We are born, we live, and we die. Why would we be attracted to turning the middle part into some routine ritual that we absolutely despise? I have experienced such despisal before; I am not immune to unhappiness. But instead of committing to it, I ditch it. And I know I am fortunate to have more opportunities than most others. But it still seems plain illogical to waste time doing anything else than enjoying this time. Of course we all occasionally have to endure moments of disgust. But to accept a lifetime of disgust seems plainly nonsensical.
There is an alternative path to awe, alongside the ditching of everything unappealing. It is a path that I imagine doesn’t require resources or enormous change. One could instead accept the journey and choose to interpret the unappealing in a different light. “I knew it. As soon as I saw that suit…You’re a ‘just‘ guy…A guy just like you. Same hair, same suit, same shoes, walks around, no matter what, you think it’s all just a store, it’s just a bench, it’s just a tree. It’s just what it is, nothing more!”- Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium. In that movie, the character of Henry Weston is an accountant who is incapable of seeing the magic right in front of his eyes. While I am no believer in magical toy stores, I don’t think that is what the movie was encouraging. The movie was instead emphasizing that nothing is simple, nothing is boring, nothing is just what it is. There is magic in everything. From the complexity of an atom to the billions of years to manipulate a set of chromosomes into what they are today, it is all overwhelmingly fascinating. Everything can be infinitely incredible. There is never an opportunity for something to become mundane. Any job, any emotion, any behavior, or object can be incredible with the right knowledge or investigation.
This place is so damn cool. Maybe I am truly as crazy as the curious looks I sometimes get make me feel. I often wish I could be concerned with those normal things, even if just for a day. I feel I would maybe be able to relate to people better, and definitely converse with them on the same topics. Maybe over time I’ll be able to chill out. Right now I have some major ants in my pants though. I wonder how other people can be so content with what they perceive and choose not to perceive. I wonder if it somewhat like a child with ADHD, incapable of filtering out most sensory perceptions. I am flooded with information and wonder and in turn distracted and antsy. I don’t know who is right though. Sometimes it can be incredibly overwhelming and even crippling. I can doubt existence itself, or contemplate unanswerable questions. Sometimes I back myself into a corner with awe and wonder and cannot even function. However, I don’t know if this is a result of the excitement itself or the the lack of an empathizing group with whom I can exchange these ideas. I do know though, that even in those moments of distress, the awe never dissipates. And I have enormous difficulty imaging that any other way of life could compete with one that is bursting with excitement.