An Ode to Shenanigans

There is a dark side to academic rigor.

Academic rigor takes many forms. As examples, scientific rigor, literary rigor, and philosophical rigor all immediately come to mind. There is a method to the meticulousness. Maybe the method itself is madness. But there is a protocol to be followed. Even if you break the mold, you blaze a trail, allowing someone to follow in your footsteps. Luckily for you, this post isn't about the quest for truth; it doesn't describe the depths of insanity which form the personal trials of each and every intellectual. Conjuring images of that darkness and giving life to those shadows is draining enough without dwelling on that topic. Instead, I only ask that you give thought to the intellectual's concept of 'progress'. Intellectualism works in the realm of perfection; there exists a specific solution to every problem which is incapable of resulting in failure. That abstraction away from reality allows us to operate in a plane of thought experiments...

"If only I could make that better..."

"If only I could cure that disease..."

"If only I hadn't made that mistake..."

...and so we leave the realm of the real. We all intellectualize in this way. It is inherently human that we dream such answers exist, we hope of finding them, and we fear that we'll fall short of them. Although we have the capacity to live by that sword, we have a similar capacity to die by it.

Intellectualism comes coupled with a blinding passion for progress. The goals become intangible. We forsake everything that we have now for an ideal that we strive for. That farsighted, insatiable blindness to the 'here and now' is parasitic upon our individual happiness. We find comfort in the future. We take solace in a reality that may or may not exist. The idea that life will be better - that we will be accomplished, that we will have gone face to face with the practical problems of the real world and that we will stand triumphant - simultaneously drives us to success and to ruin. How often do we justify a sacrifice in the present with the prospect of a better future? How often does tragedy result from risking something we cannot afford to lose (family, friends, security...) for something we convince ourselves we cannot live without (lofty goals, career aspirations, personal salvation...)?

This post is a wake-up call from improbability. Life itself is a dream. It is a small, finite series of heartbeats. Count your blessings. Now and everyday. The real tragedy is that we have the capacity to curtail our own happiness while devoting our lives to a worthwhile cause.

"The mind is its own place and in itself
Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven."
-John Milton, Paradise Lost, Book One 254-255

Tragedy, thy name is betrayal of one's own mind. Looking at life through the lens of progress can only lead to discontent. There is no terminal point of progress; there is no place where we stop and say 'We have progressed enough. At this point, we can comfortably stop and celebrate our accomplishments.' Instead, there is always more to be done.

"How far that little candle throws his beams!
So shines a good deed in a naughty world."
-William Shakespeare, "The Merchant of Venice", Act V, Scene I

In so many ways, that tiny candle invokes the human condition. One of the most poignant purposes of this quote is to illustrate admiration at the resilience of the candle in the face of darkness. The candle doesn't throw perfect beams. The candle doesn't pursue perfection at all; instead, the candle works hard to throw whatever beams it can. The candle doesn't stop itself from shining for fear that its beams aren't good enough. The sheer magnitude of illuminating the immense darkness doesn't phase the candle. Instead, the candle illuminates the world as best it can, despite that darkness. And therein lies the only perfection that the candle can be said to possess; it doesn't stop itself from shining. Fragile and weak though it is, it works in quiet dignity, not to grow stronger or brighter, but to provide for and appreciate those in its immediate vicinity.

This post is about balance. It is about seeing the forest and the trees. It is about understanding that perfect vision has the capacity to focus wherever that focus is necessary at the moment. We are defined by the things that we do. Often, the most important things in life are right in front of each of us.

For that reason, this post is also an ode to shenanigans - to life experiences, to adventures, to the loves we dared to have, to the loves we secretly wish to have again, to our friends, to our families, to the battles we've fought, to mistakes we've made, to the road trips, to the plane trips, to the family vacations, to the spring breaks, and to the eternities we've spent in those moments that passed in an instant. Because no one says it often enough, it's time to celebrate life. Don't worry about the little perfections contained within the journey; instead, notice the perfection of having a journey at all.

Toss your beams with every fiber of your being. There is no better reason than you're alive and you can. So shines an ineffable quality of human experience in a weary world.