KD-ADS: Expanding Horizons

Cos thinking should never be stagnant...

Thursday, June 02, 2005

One Wish

Lately, I have found my character to be waning in many areas, and this has placed me at a crisis point in my life. There's always talk about people experiencing a mid-life crisis and other critical epiphanies but in this stage of consumerist culture and status-seeking anxiety, most people have seeked materialist and artificial supplements to compensate for their deficencies. A deeper search, perhaps, will lead us to a agonising reflection of our hidden solicitude.

This search would plunge us into our background and our lifecourse. What are the sorts of developments in our life that we seek to claim responsibility for shaping the way we are at this present moment? How much can we attribute our patterns of behaviour and cognitive thoughts to our genes, parental guidance, social environment, school teaching, cultural values, politio-economic structure and whatever else we wish to include in this cauldron of mixed beliefs? How much of "me" can we say existed from all these happenings that remain inveterate in our psyche?

When you start examining from various points in your life, you find different answers. At this point, I really would demand for the following:

Great Intellect.

Intelligence is not a golden gift. It is usually gained from tremendous painstaking moments of hard work. Neither is it a saviour to rescue someone from the gorge of ignorance and indolence. Maybe intelligence is not a genetic heritance, perhaps it can be cultivated and fostered. But at this late stage of development, there is very little hope to ameliorate my network of neurons and brain cells that will no longer respond to the fruits of intellectual craftmanship during my youth. Do I not wish to read pages of books, as instantly as the turn of a page like John Stuart Mill, or to write my first political essay at 10, like Noam Chomsky, or to write eloquest (First and usually last as well) drafts of essays at 3,000words per day, like Bertrand Russell? Why can I not hold facts like a dictionary or encyclopedia, or deliver exorable fiery speeches with the grand touch of a master debater?

I am reminded day by day of this awful curse, as I fumble through my conversations, performing thorough searches in my brain of, what can be said to be, my tiny vocabulary database, adding to my extensive vocabulary book a list of unknown words each day, or admiring the language of my interlocutors, all of whom champion vociferous and majestic texts and thoughts, which shame me for my incompetence to match up to their deals.

Do I not wish, with all my dear heart and soul, that I could turn back the clock to retract all my previous 'sins' (i.e. all my childhood earthy leisurely habits) and ask for the sweet bliss of an endowed intellect, to serve my needs and desires and to bring me closer to my ambitions?

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