Philosophy Bakes No Bread: In All Seriousness

Most of the time I don't mean to be funny. Sometimes I do, but those are normally the times when people just give me blank stares. However, what I have come to realize is that because of my often flippant attitude and nonchalant lackadaisicality, people tend to not take me entirely seriously, so I'm going to try to be serious every now and then to show that I can be, I just choose not to be most of the time.

It's the Sabbath. On Sundays I wake up, shower, sometimes remember to eat, get ready, and then go to church, most of the time in complete silence. I find this is good for my focusation. A lot of thoughts that I have been thinking came into solid focus this morning. Over the past several evenings I have had trouble sleeping because my mind has been wrestling with things (I even ran through all of the strengths and weaknesses of my basketball team that I play with in class and devised a phenomenal strategy that actually worked really well until everyone decided to get rid of strategy). So my brain has been completely geared up. I've been dreaming up solutions left and right recently, so naturally I knew that some sort of epiphany was coming. The following is a boiled down, poorly worded, and exceedingly shallow recap of my thoughts.

I am drawn to failure. I don't know why, but I love it. I have not experienced a great deal of it in my life, which might partially explain my fascination with it. Whenever I read a book, watch a movie, act in a play, write anything, dream anything, the most interesting part comes when the protagonist finds him/herself on the brink of absolute failure. When Frodo stands inside Mount Doom is an excellent example. For the vast majority of the books and the movies, Frodo just isn't a terribly interesting character. He has one purpose, and that is to carry the ring to its destruction. However, the moment Frodo hesitates, he becomes the most interesting character in the whole trilogy.

There is something so phenomenally human about failure that we automatically as audience or experiencer connect. Without kryptonite, Superman is boring. The third X-men movie manages to hold my attention (despite its obvious, crippling flaws) because for the first time there is the possibility of a loss of power, of complete and utter defeat for the X-men. Empire Strikes back is super interesting because Luke loses (that and sleeping in a tauntaun).

I have struggled with failure for a long time. Not that I've failed a lot. I've struggled to feel like I can. That's why I play sports like softball and basketball, why I've learned to play the ocarina, why I picked up the guitar, why I take dance classes, and why I've switched my major so often. I want to feel challenged. I want to feel like I might not succeed. I am convinced that the only way to truly grow and develop is through exposure to failure. In a way, I like losing (Don't get me wrong, I love winning, too). It lets me know what I can do to improve. I've sifted through a dozen majors trying to find a balance between the potential for failure (the satisfying challenge) and what I love to do. I'm still not sure I've found it, but I enjoy what I'm doing, so I'll stick with it.

When people say, "I'm only human," they are saying that it's impossible for humans to be right all the time, to always succeed. This term has been particularly dehumanizing for me. Dance has been a good balance. I have had to work like never before to do something entirely alien to me, and I have risen to the occasion. Softball could have been another good balance, but I don't feel like I ever had any way to measure improvement or had much chance to improve, so my verdict is out.

Luckily for me, I have been going on more dates this term, and that keeps my failure quota full. I just can't figure it out. I'm just really bad at it. It's a mixture of not being able to build any momentum, of lacking clarity of purpose, maybe of trying to date the wrong girls, maybe just being the wrong guy for the girls I've taken on dates. I don't know. It leaves me perplexed because no matter the angle I choose from which to look I can't see the whole picture. I like seeing the whole picture.

And yet, surprisingly (maybe I've matured, which would also be surprising) I'm not frustrated by my inability to get anything going. Disappointed maybe, because, shoot, I've had dates with some very attractive and interesting females. Like super interesting. Like I actually enjoy listening. Which is difficult because most people are terribly normal, and I am anything but. No matter. Despite it all, I find myself saying, "Matt, at least you tried. You wouldn't have a couple of months ago. I mean, look at her. You asked. Well done. You'll get 'em next time (or the next, or the next, or the next)." I think this might mean I'm on the verge of being able to improve.

There is a poem that I very much like by Emily Dickinson. Here it is:

Success is counted sweetest
By those who ne'er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.

Not one of all the purple Host
That took the flag today
Can tell the definition
So clear of Victory

As he defeated - dying -
On whose forbidden ear
The distant strains of triumph
Burst agonized and clear!

To fail is beautifully human. To be able to stand up, improve, and overcome that failure is what sets us apart. That is the divine aspect of life. That is why repentance is so key to our existence, because it is only through repentance that we can ever truly improve, that we can ever become like our Heavenly Father. We will fail. We're only human, after all. Some of us will feel like we fail a whole lot. But there is always the opportunity to learn, to grow, and to succeed the next time the challenge arises.

And now if you've managed to read all of that, you have earned the following.