i now have a muse. self-appointed, but thoughtful and enlightened nonetheless.
once again, this evening, Muse and i ventured into philosophical territories and found ourselves involved in a discourse on the profundities of knowledge of others. this doesn't mean, "ooh, ooh, i know kevin bacon!" what we were exploring was a foundational understanding of who a person is at his or her core. this conversation was going well, and then Muse posed the view that it is unimportant that another person knows every piece and every facet of oneself. if the self has the details, what else does the self need? (i hope that i correctly represented Muse's point of view... if i'm inaccurate, i'll personally resign from my position in the government of the small latin american country that Muse rules during leisure hours)
anyway, upon reflection, i realized that not only am i unsatisfied with that supposition, but i am also displeased with my initial response. here is my second offering, which i hope to be more enlightening and intellectually annoying:
to get to the relational core of the issue, it's edifying to look at the subject in the context of love. (yes, here i go again. deal with it.) of course, we're wielding the very weighty connotations and the more elusive denotations of "love" and "knowledge" in this conversation, and we're also assuming that we can enact this emotion or state of being or what have you with as complete an understanding as we can. we have to remind ourselves of the fluidity of these consuming concepts as we put forth our arguments. but i digress.
is it not an essential piece of love, to know the beloved on such an elevated plane of intimacy? isn't it part of love's nature to continuously evolve in the knowledge of every aspect of the beloved's being? what is the nature of this knowledge? what form does it take? isn't a manifestation and in fact the lifeblood of knowledge the communication of itself, thus feeding and growing the connection[s] between the lover and the beloved? it's an endless investigation, and in love, there is the inherent desire to be known. the withholding of knowledge, and indeed the lack of interest in it, is often seen as a breach of the bond of love itself.
thus, my ultimate question:
if another's such knowledge is deemed unimportant and nonessential for oneself, is it at all possible to genuinely participate in something so intrinsically communal as love?
once again, this evening, Muse and i ventured into philosophical territories and found ourselves involved in a discourse on the profundities of knowledge of others. this doesn't mean, "ooh, ooh, i know kevin bacon!" what we were exploring was a foundational understanding of who a person is at his or her core. this conversation was going well, and then Muse posed the view that it is unimportant that another person knows every piece and every facet of oneself. if the self has the details, what else does the self need? (i hope that i correctly represented Muse's point of view... if i'm inaccurate, i'll personally resign from my position in the government of the small latin american country that Muse rules during leisure hours)
anyway, upon reflection, i realized that not only am i unsatisfied with that supposition, but i am also displeased with my initial response. here is my second offering, which i hope to be more enlightening and intellectually annoying:
to get to the relational core of the issue, it's edifying to look at the subject in the context of love. (yes, here i go again. deal with it.) of course, we're wielding the very weighty connotations and the more elusive denotations of "love" and "knowledge" in this conversation, and we're also assuming that we can enact this emotion or state of being or what have you with as complete an understanding as we can. we have to remind ourselves of the fluidity of these consuming concepts as we put forth our arguments. but i digress.
is it not an essential piece of love, to know the beloved on such an elevated plane of intimacy? isn't it part of love's nature to continuously evolve in the knowledge of every aspect of the beloved's being? what is the nature of this knowledge? what form does it take? isn't a manifestation and in fact the lifeblood of knowledge the communication of itself, thus feeding and growing the connection[s] between the lover and the beloved? it's an endless investigation, and in love, there is the inherent desire to be known. the withholding of knowledge, and indeed the lack of interest in it, is often seen as a breach of the bond of love itself.
thus, my ultimate question:
if another's such knowledge is deemed unimportant and nonessential for oneself, is it at all possible to genuinely participate in something so intrinsically communal as love?
No comments:
Post a Comment