The first piece from my blog, Ramblings of a Mad Woman: Link: https://medium.com/ramblings-of-a-mad-woman
In the beginning there was nothing-
there was no thing
Starting this off with a bible verse is either very inappropriate or fitting for a first ramble. I’m guessing it will all depend on your view of this worldly creation of ours, how it came about and what lay in the abyss until we came and started fucking up in the colossal fashion we do.
What could you possibly do with your brain but endlessly wonder about was is and is not? It’s the simplest thing apparently and one we assume we know. Just like the trinity, “Oh, he who is three who is one? Yeah, I get it.” DO YOU!? I know I can’t seem to wrap my head around a concept like that no matter how many times I read The Shack. I just don’t buy it.
If I may, however, revert back to the pondering of nothingness once again. Most people who enjoy or have forcefully dabbled in the quizzical world of philosophy, have most likely heard of Hegel and his minions of masterminds. Now I must confess that I am a serial complicator of conversational concepts and spend a great deal of my time arguing about things that will never be answered, but for some reason it’s my version of lines in a bathroom stall and I just can’t stop.
Hegel slapped me in the face the other day when I read his definition of nothing/of what was before matter ever could be. This “thing” was nothing, no-thing, nothing of material substance. The nothingness of space and time, that shaped this hollow shell of what we perceive as the real world, was consciousness and more specifically (or less), thought, world spirit, infinite potential within thought to materialize into physis.
Funny isn’t it? To envision yourself as the offspring of the purest form of thought alone. What would it look like, smell like, feel like? What is a thought in isolation? It isn’t a bearded man on a cloud but it sure is easier to accept.
Why? Because we hate not knowing what we do not know.
And I genuinely believe this to be true. I have gladly jumped off bridges and dangled from my feet but if you asked me to believe the bridge wasn’t real, I’d instantly admit defeat. Now I know I haven’t made you smarter, or told you anything you did not already know. This isn’t fact, nor is it fiction. Philosophizing to me is game of Russian roulette, where your sanity is the highest bet.