Philosophical Musing #2: On perception, or “what the individual sees”

Today is Hermann Rorschach’s 129th birthday, and Google has to much publicity made a do-it-yourself test to which I will provide the link at the end of this blog.

However, this got me thinking. Each person’s perception is entirely unique. But not that unique. As Google’s joke goes which most media missed, some things are undeniable. The Rorschach test was never designed to completely understand a person empirically. It was a vehicle by which a therapist could delve into the depths of another person’s fears, hopes and desires in life. To subjectively allow the other to muse about their own being and thereby build a bond of trust with the therapist.

In much the same way, an experience shared with a family member, a friend or somebody you know can build an enormously strong bond if both parties are receptive in the telling and hearing of it. And if both parties were actively involved with this experience, the bond is strengthened. Despite loss via non-contact or death, the threads of this bond shall remain strong as long as either person exists.

20 years on, an ex-girlfriend still stays strong in my head. We were together for a good 8 years, and experienced possibly any permutation and combination of experiences one should and shouldn’t experience in a relationship. And despite our anger, hatred, complacency, love, happiness, sadness, hope and fear. Despite all of this, we both know deep inside that no matter who we moved on to next, that we shared a moment in time that was irreplaceable. We don’t even speak about it anymore, but every now and then we share a knowing moment and we both smile with the knowledge that we are strong. We are each other’s guardian angels, kindred spirits. And yet we will never make love again.

We forget this sometimes as we begin to hate, loathe and reel in disgust. A gentle self reminder may act as a calibrating guide as a ctrl-alt-del for your head, and beginning the day in a better direction. Some bonds are weaved far too strong to contemplate breaking, despite life altering moments of change.

Again, this is one of the many scented essences of being human.

http://www.google.com/doodles/hermann-rorschachs-129th-birthday

Philosophical Musing #1: On Release and Tension.

I started this blog as a simple anonymous avenue to explore and share my life experiences, thoughts, philosophies and fantasies. Which are which shall be left to you to decide. But this post is  specifically about tension and release.

From conception, to childbirth, schooling, love, marriage, and death tension and release is a primary factor involved in creating these experiences.

Pretty much everything in life can be brought back to tension and release in some way or another. Stress. Love. Sports. Sex. Drugs. Happiness. Sadness. Love. Flirting. Anger. Hope. Love. Music. Theatre. Art. Love.

It is the dichotomy of human existence. Release is pointless unless there is a build up to it.

Just the same as happiness being useless unless you actually understand the opposite. And this is the tension. The understanding that follows the experience itself.

I learned this recently whist discussing with a friend the virtues of every kind of experience. I have attempted to live my life this way, intentionally so. Often stupidly so. Experience for the sake of it. It took time to accept that this experience itself was useless without any reflection that followed. But now I can look back at both all the good, bad and ugly things I have done with a satisfaction that none of them went to waste, and that each and every one of those experiences and the people involved helped create the person that I now am.

Weekend Adventure 1: “Cambodia”, or “Ever wanted to buy a ferret?”

A life long ago, in a time far away (but not far enough away):

I was floored on opium staggering out of the quaint den in Phnom Penh, Cambodia when a man approached me in the alley that reeked of human waste. It seems he wanted to sell me a ferret.

“How much for the rodent?”

“I like Americans. We friends. For you cheap.”

After having lost a few hundred bucks gambling at a likely illegal casino and not really wanting to buy a ferret, I told him that I hadn’t enough money to buy his pet. But if he took credit I would look into it.

I am not sure he understood what credit was, so I told him to wait and I walked away. I was just about to turn around and ask him why he was trying to sell ferrets out the front of an opium den when:

Blackness.

A creaky fan above me. A woman in a red skirt and no top to my left. A pool of vomit to my right. Not quite certain where I was. My head is splitting in half.

And there was the ferret in all his glory standing in the corner of the room going through my wallet and eating what little money I had left. It started gnawing on something that look uncomfortably close to being my plane ticket, mostly because it actually was my plane ticket.

Wait. I feel a breast. Who is this woman to my left? Wait. Vomit. Why is there vomit is to my right? And those were not my boxers that I was sleeping on.

I have mail. It seems I missed work. And my ex-wife’s wedding. 15 missed calls. 5 voice mail messages. And 38 text messages. I hate mondays.

It seems I now own a ferret. And if I can actually work out where I am, is it even worth considering bringing back the ferret to Singapore with me?

The moral to this story is that it is never wise to negotiate with men trying to sell ferrets in alleyways in Phnom Penh right after having smoked opium and blown away all one’s money in an illegal casino the day before you start work in Singapore.

The chances that you will wake up next to a semi-conscious woman in a red skirt, mysterious union jack boxers on your pillow and a pool of vomit to your right. And that very same ferret will be eating your return ticket to Singapore.

You chances of this occurring are high.

Mind you, the weather was quite lovely that day.