An Incomplete Education

We would all like to be well-rounded, yes?...I mean as far as knowing about as much as we can whilst we can still breathe...the more we know, the more worth we have, the more potential wealth we might obtain, right? Unfortunately I am obliged for my well-rounded, 'liberal arts' studies...the bane of my existence for the price I have paid for semi-universality of 'well-rounded knowledge.' Better to be partially knowledgeable of most major categories than to concentrate full attention on one, right? Wrong! Better to be partially knowledgeable on most but very knowledgeable on one, otherwise, how does knowledge compound? Or is compounding knowledge a problem, overloading our brains which cannot venture to know everything lest they confound?

I struggle with what I do not know, but moreso because I struggle with what I do know about not knowing that in turn feeds the tension between knowing and not knowing that nourishes my thought and action. All things worth contemplating spawn, for me, from concepts in tension...this last point is my point (forgive the hopping to get there). This bias has somewhat illuded me until I was walking to drive home today (forgive the mixed metaphor) and I bunny-trailed, much like you see here in this blog, to this locale. I am uncomfortable with comfort, though comfort be the normative societal strivation, and with uncomfort I am uncomfortable with the comfort I find in uncomfort's very nature.

I am, yet I am something else as well whilst I perceive myself as being. There are no categories that can strategically compartmentalize my strife, because I desire it. I need it. Without it, I am not me, the same me that perceives himself to rationalize, love, empathize and devote himself whole-heartedly to and for the objects of his love. But how can a self in tension make a whole-hearted claim when a tensioned self is by nature not whole? What is it within the very tensioned fabric of the cosmos that whole-heartedly conveys to me a perception of whole-heartedness, where whole-heartedness may or may not be but a figment instilled in me by experience or natural inclination? My love blossoms the heartier as my frictioned ontological, epistemological, and ultimately metaphysical dualisms fuel my soul's fire that is my being.


Tis tension that holds all seen and unseen together -- The name of my tension is Love. Love alone, inexplicable and bountious, perceived as a tensioned knot, ordered and taut, sustains me. It is my will to be free of such tension in time, to finally have rest...but in time I remain in tension with all things temporal hoping for a future of rest in eternal Love that is the source of my search for Truth, the source of my categorical quandaries of mind, the source of rest in a moment forever that is free of tension.

However, why strive to find eternal rest in the very thing that has inadvertently fueled my temporal unrest in search of eternal rest? Should I not protest my limitations as an unrested being? Folly of me to consider such! Enculturated freedom indeed informs me to ask such questions when true freedom is bound up with gracious servitude and limitations. Free in unrest is a binding in rest therein whereby tension again arises from what I desire to know but do not know whole-heartedly as my limited self. Enculturated freedom is bound in the possibilities available to me, though I may perceive some unfulfilled possibilities, which transcend those boundaries. True freedom is bound by unlimited possibilities unavailable to anything temporal, anything created. For all created is bound to that which is responsible for their creation since true freedom is an impossibility for those who did not create themselves, thus unable to claim a self-creation that would grant them the true freedom in transcendence.