memento mori, memento vivere

First of all, I wish I knew more Latin phrases. Second, let me make clear that my last post, which ended in "hahaha" was not meant to be sarcastic, cynical, or self-pitying. My "hahah" is more synonymous with LOL, which is an absurd acronym that I refuse to use, than with IALBIAODDASAYTETC (I am laughing because I am overly-dramatic, depressed, and selfish, and yet too embarassed to cry), an acronym that I would use if I felt that way and was trying to express the notion.


So I wanted to write at least one more post, in order that I might bring some reflection and conclusion from my time in Scotland to this glaringly unrevealing blog. Unfortunately, I have not reflected upon my trip as a whole as much as I expected or would have liked to, and I haven't come to too many enlightened conclusions. I might as well write somethin though.

Things I learned in Scotland (and surrounding):
1. My left foot is significantly larger than my right foot.
2. Turns out stretching is bad for you to do before you exercise; instead you should do it after, when your muscles are already warm.
3. Turns out it really sucks to be a girl: After engaging in some eye-opening conversations I have much more respect for the female species.
4. Americans are, by and large, overly cautious and fearful. A man can pretty much go anywhere without being too bothered, given that he's smart about it. He'll face fears and take risks, but these are in actuality relatively indistinct from dangers we deal with on a regular basis, right here at home in the ol' U S of A.
5. One should limit the amount of avacado and salt he or she eats in one sitting.
6. Philosophy of Mind is a testament to how little the human community understands about the mind, or philosophy.
7. Spending too much time alone will make you question nearly everything about yourself, especially--and ironically--in regard to your social persona.
8. Irish people are friendly, Norwegians are blond. Stereotypes are always true! (Well, at least more often than we might expect.)
9. The world is a surprisingly beautiful place.
10. The Godfather is not at all overrated.
11. Turns out specific tartans are not original to specific Scottish clans, but were basically manufactured, assigned to clans, and then exported as a cultural gimmick of the Highlands.
12. Turns out when a girl gives you her number, having it written on your arm in lipstick makes you seem really cool, but it fades pretty quickly.
13. Rupert Murdoch owns everything.
14. William Wallace raped and pillaged a lot more than Braveheart would have you believe.
15. Scotch: Classy, Manly, Delicious.


Watch out, it's about to get serious up in here. (seriously)

I suppose I did some maturing (I've always been a bit obsessed with the idea of maturing, though I'm still not sure what it means) while in Europe. Mostly that consisted of coming to tenuous grips with my lack of understanding and the more general ignorance that mankind has of all things interesting or essential to its active existence. Look about the people you see on the streets, in restaurants, or those with whom you interact on a daily basis--family, friends, etc.. Know that they, like you, are doing what they are doing and saying what they're saying more often out of expediency or habit than wisdom--they pull not from a wellspring of truth but from a persistent and simple need to survive.

Not denying the role that reason and love and God play in our lives and determinations (as I hold that we must assume the somehow-higher position of these things in order to reason and love and be human), we essentially are animals. We will live and die by our hunger.
The scary thing is that this might not be so wrong. Between action and thought we are trapped, and neither the thinkers nor the doers quite know what's going on or what they're looking for. Perhaps our hunger is the only thing of which we can be sure--the only thing we have to grasp. (I should say, too, that this hunger comes in many forms. I certainly don't endorse the most obviously animalistic form--do what feels good as quickly and directly as possible--though many people today seem to claim that mantra.)

God is good. I believe that's true because I think that good is good. Or I hope (is that the better word?) that good is more than simply a different shade of evil or unpleasant or disadvantageous. That being said, God will not be there for you every time you need Him. He will not speak to you every time you're lost or comfort you whenever you're in pain. Sometimes you are made to peer into cavities of blank-white unexplicable life or clouds of black unexplicable tragedy without the blessing of joy or peace or sense of spiritual communion. In such times is faith tested.
Faith is trust in God to bring you through these times, to know and safeguard your future when you have no foresight and do not want to move. But maybe faith is also to get up from that position and walk, even blindly, even recklessly. Not to uncritically believe that for which you have no evidence--don't make the mistake of viewing faith as reason's foil; they are entirely different genuses--but to give yourself to God and fellow man in action and hope, though you may not see the object of that hope or the point of that action.

Over the past 6 months I have doubted, questioned, my beliefs more than I ever have before (and I have always been a doubter and questioner (though I take no pride in that)). I cannot say that I have emerged unscathed or completely recovered, but I have learned to live through doubt. Of the things that I have taken away from being in Scotland and traveling around Europe, certainly valuable is a greater comfort with my self, as well as a confidence that I can live comfortably regardless of my setting or location. To me personally, to live in uncertainty is much more daunting than to live in physical danger, but both require faith and, in both, one must continue to survive.

I did not enjoy my entire time abroad. Much of the time, especially in the beginning, I found myself wishing I had stayed at Middlebury, with people I knew and a schedule, though exhausting, more familiar. Ultimately, my time in Scotland was worth it because of the friends I made--amazing, unique people who surprised me and taught me and inspired me and often tried to rob me of my dignity. Thanks, guys.