So, today, my inner writer was reawakened. It isn't that I haven't been writing, but I certainly haven't been writing for fun. I've completely left out the story of my life since Facebook stole my brain and time, then the restaurant came and closed, now there's catering and a thousand projects, activities and stories. All yet to be back blogged. Oh, like I have a backblog of ideas for stories.
Before I go on, I officially add How Bizarre, OMC, to the soundtrack of my life. Wanna know the rest? Hey, buy the rights!
What compelled me to run back into the arms of my long-lost lj lover? Privacy. A smaller group of friends. That sort of thing. But, I'm still not locking it down. I don't think anything I post on the web is truly private, so what's the point? I am an open book. I see no other solution I am willing to implement. Oh, and a conversation with Squid's art history class, wherein Squid reveals her largest career desires in life. Dun dun dun.
In all, it has been a perfect grey fall day. I awoke to fix the twins healthy lunches. It makes me happy. I try to cook as much as possible to make up for missing cooking everyday at the restaurant. I made a new kind of coffee and fed my Shatto cream addiction. I took Squid to school on a pleasant drive there with her, came home and made a pair of earrings to wear to coffee with the class. Sweet action.
In the course of one of the most pleasant and lively conversations I've had with a group of people in a bit, much was discussed. Much. was. discussed. The topics of self-perception and self-delusion came up. The topic of what our souls would wear, a topic the Squid and I have much enjoyed over the years. I've probably written about it, but my soul would wear an orange, pink and purple paisley utilikilt, with either go-go boots or heeled combat knee high snake boots, and...pasties. And, my soul smokes because it just looks cool and souls don't get cancer in this scenario. Immunity. Also, see the need for pockets in the utilikilt. Yes, we've given it quite a bit of thought. And, now, we've dragged others into our little rumination. Mwah.
The conclusion drawn on self-delusion was if ten friends were held in a room and questioned by someone scary who made them tell our personal weaknesses and foibles, the results would be possibly devastating to our continued positive self-image. You mean my robust and rather uncontrollable laugh isn't exactly joy bringing to everyone? The horror! Would our delusions revealed make us better people or just level us? No conclusion and no volunteers for experimentation.
It's Squid's early day and we stopped on the way home to visit the lions at Swope Park. We took the path less traveled and explored down a truly beautiful path with grueling stone steps. They seemed so quaint on the way down. Mother fuckers. But, we took pictures and enjoyed the day and kept the philosophical chat rolling. We both have writing projects on our minds and we were talking about love, relationships, institutionalized feelings or expectations of feelings, and fear. Big words were used. Bigger ideas cowered under our microscope examination.
On the drive home, I was enjoying a little brain CGI film of my soul, the smoking, topless, kilt wearer. I further determined the pasties would indicate my soul's mood that day and today was hot pink, sparkly flower shapes. My soul's boots were all about kicking butts and taking names...against weighty philosophical problems. The issues of our times. A live, technicolor, low budget, animated philosophy super hero. But, hot.
I like these ideals my brain sets up for me to aspire to and see in my soul. Are they delusional or just good, clean (ish) fun?
The latest concept in a book I'm reading, Stumbling on Happiness, is that certain beliefs, despite all experimental proof of their inaccuracy, despite having living, breathing resources who are currently participating in the situations, and daily are disproven to us, we keep believing--and not just for a little while. A long line of your ancestors also believed them. The most notable two of those beliefs? Money will make us happy and parenthood will make us happy. In reality, a certain amount of money will keep us from becoming very unhappy, but after a certain point, it's all a matter of mind-numbing shades of grey. And, parenthood is a grueling task that has been shown in studies not to make one happy during the day-to-day...instead, it does in fact make us more unhappy. But, to believe otherwise is to have everyone sleep in and the world's economic gears grind to a halt, and, to have the species end as we all fear the fruits of procreation. Oi.
So, what if self-delusion is just another instance of this sort of belief? It is the hinge pin of the door to our will to live, our hope, our relative sanity?
Nothing to see here. Keep it movin'.