My life is a notepad
When I was little, my older sister kept a collection of 16 pages thick notebooks with Disney characters on the covers. She’s never written anything inside, she just kept the whole drawer full of those notebooks. As I was an early elementary school child, I didn’t understand the power a good notepad can represent, but I sure found an idea of collecting those very much exciting. I liked to look at my sister’s collection, for no reason, just like that.
The same sister, kept a few bigger notebooks in which she liked to write song lyrics. She didn’t copy all of them from the Internet, since it wasn’t exactly easy to get it these days I’m talking about. Even though I was a little child, and didn’t know the power of writing nor song lyrics, whatsoever, somehow I felt the idea is special, and subconsciously started to plan my own notepads. And my subconsciousness told me there will be a lot of those.
From a middle school girl’s diary, through notepads with favourite song lyrics straight to the point where I write deep philosophical reflections and quotes, I’ve been an author of at least 25 different notepads.
There has been a point in my in life where I have absolutely no time to do anything I want, therefore writing in notepads as well as on my blog has become an amazing, but exclusive hobby. Every minute I can spend doing it costs a lot of guilty feelings, that I’m doing something purposeless. How do you call it? Adultness?
Why does everything require a purpose?
You study, to have an amazing career. You have an amazing career, to make a living for your family. You make a living for your family, so your children become good adults. You write, so someone can read it and make it practical. You read, so you can gain knowledge and use it in your future career. You start a blog, to become a successful person in this particular aspect. You learn languages, so it looks good in your CV. You dress up, so other people tell you how fashionable you are, or to attract someone. Now tell me. When was the last time you did something for yourself?
Living your life as it is in this particular moment is as old as the idea of stoicism. Zenon of Kition, while creating this dogma, that only the present moment is what counts and what should be made use of and appreciated, didn’t realize that in 2016 people will still have some problems understanding it. Why do we?
Because we live in the world of purpose. Honestly? I’m as done with your pragmatic shit as Socrates was with the sophists’. Let’s change the attitude.
All these things you do for purpose, are the things you do for other people, not for yourself. I read an interview once, with a not-so-famous but very creative musician, and he said the following words: “A genius doesn’t rely on people’s opinion, he himself knows what makes his art good and what doesn’t. He doesn’t listen to the compliments nor to the insults.”
The whole system, school-career is made to get you to think otherwise. Get you to think, that you have to be chosen. Work hard to be chosen and be chosen to work harder. Get you to think, that you are here to obey the rules, not to create them. Get you to think, that what you do must have practical consequences, otherwise it means nothing. People who create this system are the ones who say, that a painter’s work is worthless, that a poet equals lazy. I’ve been thinking lately, what costs me more effort – to complete 20 schematic maths exercises or to write my own, creative essay. Creating something of your own is something that engages your mind fully, therefore it is worth more.
Am I capable of creating ideas and spreading them? I don’t know. But I’m sure as hell, I want to. Do you? Careful. They don’t teach it at school. No one chooses you and says: hey, you go be a philosopher. You must choose yourself. You tell yourself who you should be. Difficult? Obeying is for the lazy, creating is for the hard-working, not the system’s way around.
As I was reading this famous man’s biography one of his sentences caught my eye in particular. “I have never let my schooling interfere with my education”. Now, that I’ve graduated and I must go my own way, I feel I’ve never been happier. Finally, I can learn something.
Intellectualism is exclusive. Everyone can become educated, but not everyone can be an intellectualist. The first one finished some studies on a proper level and is pursuing a nice career using it, sees knowledge as a tool to build his success. The second one sees knowledge as a form of art, and “knowing” as the highest purpose of getting any education whatsoever. The first one needs it, the second one wants it with all his heart. To be the first you must be assigned to school and have good memory, to be the second you must have a special, creative soul.
Writing this had no purpose
I wrote 10 things in my notepad today, and I did it for my own pleasure. I wrote quotes on my wall posters and no one can see them except me. I’m reading a really good book I can’t really use on my exams. I wrote this article, and no one told me to do it. I wrote it, and it has no practical consequences. I did it, because I chose to. And if you, fellow Reader, have reached this point, know this has no purpose and try to accept it.