Day 333 - What's the Matter, Matter?
Of all the forms energy takes on, the human experience of consciousness seems to be the one most determined to discover meaning.
Even beyond the desire for belief is the longing to matter.
We want our lives to have purpose.
This mattering is so intense that it evolves into beliefs about the invisible, gods, heavens, hells, and more. Even as we war with each other about our gods, ultimately our need is about mattering - not necessarily that our beliefs are irrevocably true.
After all, this promise of eternal meaningfulness is what lures so many of us into god beliefs at all, most of which are centered around the debasement of all noun matter for the ultimate victory of verb matter. As a result, we fixate on the invisible in order to prove that we, the visible, have meaning beyond just the frail lifespan of these 200-odd bones and blood and water. And nothing makes this more urgent than losing the hugs and smiles and laughter of someone we love. We are finite matter desperate that all matter infinitely matter.
What I find even more interesting about the search for meaning is that it is constantly changing its focus and intensity as we age, as we love and as we lose those we love.
When we are children, we only need to matter to our parents and our pets. We have fears and insecurities, but the whole world is a playground.
As we enter adolescence, mattering becomes a lot more important. We have to matter to our peers and to ourselves. We are fearless - at the height of our energy, and we are filled with the belief that we can and do matter to the future of humanity, even eternity. With this fervor, we leap from our pinnacle of hopes and dreams....
...and we fall.
I will be 39 this year.
I think I'm shedding useless beliefs and pointless meanings.
I think I'm reinventing myself, my purpose.
I think I'm coming into myself more than I ever have before.
But laughably, I'm only in my final throes of insisting that mattering still matters.
In less convoluted terms, it's often referred to as a mid-life crisis.
Even so, I guess my hope is that 79 year old Jeanne will have a little more grace and kindness for all of her versions of mattering at 19 or 39 or any part of her past.
As I write these stories, it's an utterly strange feeling to look in the mirror and realize that I am not 19 anymore.
Inside I'm still this girl who needs to belong and find her immovable meaning in an unquestionable absolute. This girl who went all in for the absolutes of religion only to find that nothing is absolute except change. And while she waited for the God-Absolute to conquer all, her world and her body kept changing until slowly she realized that she had held her heart behind for too long.
Now her forehead is etched with lines of anger and grief, her eyes crinkle with laughter and sadness, and her elbows and knees sag more than they used to. Her heart is still wandering the valleys at 19, but her body is definitely 39. (She hopes that her wisdom is keeping up with her age, but sometimes she fears that wisdom is as elusive as meaning itself.)
I can't rescue her broken heart of love.
I can't satisfy the vow or the god to whom she made the vow.
I can't even find N again the way she remembers him.
He's already gone. He's not 19 anymore either.
But I can turn back toward her.
I can wait for her.
And I can hold her hand as we walk out of this valley together.
I can matter to her.
And she can matter to me.
Even beyond the desire for belief is the longing to matter.
We want our lives to have purpose.
Matter is about Substance.
mat·ter
ˈmadər/
noun
- 1.physical substance in general, as distinct from mind and spirit; (in physics) that which occupies space and possesses rest mass, especially as distinct from energy.
"the structure and properties of matter" - 2.an affair or situation under consideration; a topic.
"a great deal of work was done on this matter"synonyms: affair, business, proceeding, situation,
circumstance, event, happening, occurrence,
incident, episode, experience
verb
- 1.be of importance; have significance.
"it doesn't matter what the guests wear"synonyms: importance, consequence, significance, note,
import, weight
We are the noun matter.
We want our lives to verb matter.
This mattering is so intense that it evolves into beliefs about the invisible, gods, heavens, hells, and more. Even as we war with each other about our gods, ultimately our need is about mattering - not necessarily that our beliefs are irrevocably true.
After all, this promise of eternal meaningfulness is what lures so many of us into god beliefs at all, most of which are centered around the debasement of all noun matter for the ultimate victory of verb matter. As a result, we fixate on the invisible in order to prove that we, the visible, have meaning beyond just the frail lifespan of these 200-odd bones and blood and water. And nothing makes this more urgent than losing the hugs and smiles and laughter of someone we love. We are finite matter desperate that all matter infinitely matter.
I don't disagree.
I want to matter as much as the next matter.
I'm not here to debate what is the exact scope of our meaning.
Only that we all have a seemingly universal need for meaning.
When we are children, we only need to matter to our parents and our pets. We have fears and insecurities, but the whole world is a playground.
As we enter adolescence, mattering becomes a lot more important. We have to matter to our peers and to ourselves. We are fearless - at the height of our energy, and we are filled with the belief that we can and do matter to the future of humanity, even eternity. With this fervor, we leap from our pinnacle of hopes and dreams....
...and we fall.
I will be 39 this year.
I think I'm shedding useless beliefs and pointless meanings.
I think I'm reinventing myself, my purpose.
I think I'm coming into myself more than I ever have before.
But laughably, I'm only in my final throes of insisting that mattering still matters.
In less convoluted terms, it's often referred to as a mid-life crisis.
Someday I will be 79.
I will look back at these writings with a perspective
that has invariably changed again.
I will be closer to death.
I will know that meaning is still dauntingly misunderstood
and misapprehended.
I will probably grasp at my old invisible god beliefs
to comfort the nearing end of my bones,
just as many have done before me.
I will be less inclined to leap.
And I will probably sigh and shake my weary head
at this 39 year old Jeanne...
just as I often shudder in despair for 19 year old Jeanne.
As I write these stories, it's an utterly strange feeling to look in the mirror and realize that I am not 19 anymore.
Inside I'm still this girl who needs to belong and find her immovable meaning in an unquestionable absolute. This girl who went all in for the absolutes of religion only to find that nothing is absolute except change. And while she waited for the God-Absolute to conquer all, her world and her body kept changing until slowly she realized that she had held her heart behind for too long.
Now her forehead is etched with lines of anger and grief, her eyes crinkle with laughter and sadness, and her elbows and knees sag more than they used to. Her heart is still wandering the valleys at 19, but her body is definitely 39. (She hopes that her wisdom is keeping up with her age, but sometimes she fears that wisdom is as elusive as meaning itself.)
I can't rescue her broken heart of love.I can't satisfy the vow or the god to whom she made the vow.
I can't even find N again the way she remembers him.
He's already gone. He's not 19 anymore either.
But I can turn back toward her.
I can wait for her.
And I can hold her hand as we walk out of this valley together.
I can matter to her.
And she can matter to me.
