Nosce te ipsum

"Know Thyself"  (Latin)
Or as I prefer it, "Remember who you are," for knowing oneself is not enough.

Yes, it matches a line by Mufasa from "The Lion King."  But with a booming voice like James Earl Jones reciting the phrase, how can you help but remember it?

In any case... I've forgotten this important thing.  It seems I periodically forget important parts of myself.  Milan Kundera holds that memory is not a way to remember, but a process of forgetting.  While I don't agree with him completely, I do see his point.  And perhaps this fallacy of memory is the perfect excuse for my periodic forgetfulness.  It's a process that I recognized quite some time ago.  I remember writing a poem about it... though I don't remember it entirely at this point.  Fitting, I should think.

I've been preoccupied with other things... mostly ways in which I've failed.  Elsewhere in this blog I've mentioned what I want for my life; family, a life well lived.  If I cannot have everything, then these things will suffice.  Guilt is something that hounds me... I'm not sure if it is an emotion, but in the way I feel it, it certainly seems like an emotion.  I have a long memory, and I'm very aware of my surroundings when I choose to be.  (The show Alphas has an episode dedicated to this type of problem, as does the show Fringe)  The problem is, I don't like being so vigilant, it keeps me from enjoying life, so I shut down for a while.  Quite regularly, I realize belatedly that I've shut down too much, made some avoidable mistake.  I don't really know how to find the balance, and perhaps I never will.  For someone who tells himself he's an existentialist, I certainly have a difficult time defining my reality. 

I certainly know who I am and what I'm capable of, my problem lies in remembering who I am.  It seems quite fitting that I study history, because that's where I truly draw my strength for who I am.  It's not enough to know who I am at the present.  That's just a snapshot, completely static, which reveals nothing of my potential tomorrow, or my travails to this point.  Not that it has all been troubles and toil to this point, but the low points conquered certainly stick with a person, and provide a sense of confidence and pride. 

In remembering my past, I give it weight.  Or, rather, it's like I'm putting my weight on it, it compresses, and springs me into tomorrow.  It is said, "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."  I don't entirely agree, at least not in strict sense, but there is great value in remembering the past.  And if memory is a process of forgetting, it is a delayed process, and delay is all I need.  I won't live forever (likely not, anyway-- I don't know that I won't live forever though), so memory only has to last long enough to get me to the grave in a delayed way. 

A friend subtitles in her blogs, "Living for Love or the Illusion of It."  In my experience, it is only an illusion... but it's an illusion worth having.  Especially of an existentialist, since such a person creates his or her own reality.  The problem?  Illusions fade; they require constant maintenance.  And even then they may fade.  I haven't dated anyone for a while, but this doesn't mean I haven't tried.  One of the greatest problems for me is the strength of the illusion.  I've had 3 illusions of love that I'm afraid have jaded me.  If I don't see amazing potential for a relationship in short time (meaning if I don't quickly fall head over heels over the person), I tend to give up on the relationship and close myself off from it.  If I meet someone only briefly, I tend to keep the illusion alive longer... it doesn't have the influence of the enamoured to dissipate my construction.  I had a very strong illusion for the last few months... and it finally faded... or rather, it was suddenly broken.  And with it, my desire for "family happiness" as well (I am aware of the Leo Tolstoy story of the same name... it is a reference).  I don't talk about relationships... but in the last year I've turned down someone in whom I had no interest, I refrained from dating a friend's ex-girlfriend, I myself was turned down, and I had a complicated relationship with a girl in which the relationship was never defined, nor was the breakup, if it can be called such.  In the intervening months, an old flame re-sparked... and the illusion was strong... but in the end it broke.  I tried to recreate it, but to no avail.  Dead things really should be left alone, and I am no necromancer.

And in the doldrums of broken illusions, with no wind to fill my emotional sails, I felt myself adrift.  This was compounded by my plans for the future, my desire for a future in Europe, depending solely on providence, and seeming to also be failing.  While adrift and rudderless, and having no discernible destination, I found it impossible, while knowing who I was, to remember where I came from.  With nothing in the future, and nothing filling me presently, I overlooked my history.  The ship analogy still works.  Lost after a storm and adrift, with no destination and no prospects, the only thing is to remember why the ship left port.  Why was I where I was?  The past connects the dots, it shows the path taken, and offers a direction forward. 

Remember who you are.  I am me; I am my father's son.  There are values he taught me worth carrying forward to the future.  I have learned beautiful things on my own worth remembering and mentioning to others.  For now, I need to forget what I've lost, love or the illusion of it, failure in my life, panic at my age... these things aren't nearly as important as the responsibility I have to remember, or at least forget slowly, these things I have been taught or experienced.  That is the core of who I am, not my recent failures and worries.  I am complete in the fact that I am me, that I have my life up to this point to rely on.  When directionless and in doldrums, I can look back to where I've come from and see where I am to go. :)



P.S.  I remembered the poem

Occasionally, I lose who I am.
I walk and talk and realize
I've forgotten my role in life.

I spend months recovering,
reconstructing--remembering,
but I know it doesn't matter,

I will only forget again.