Knowing More

There is a lot of work to be done nowadays, but this is enjoyable, engaging, intriguing work. Now, I feel as if I am plumbing the boundaries of my experience, both in terms of knowing more, and in terms of knowing more deeply. From rudimentary astrophysics to the philosophy of sociology, from discussions in genetics to issues raised in the classics, everything seems now to be cloying and seductive. I haven't been so fully engaged on so many fronts in a very long time, and it feels good to be challenged once again to delve deeply into ideas and concepts, to live the life of the mind.

My Sociology and Urban Studies classes are, of course, deeply intriguing. I feel like these classes speak my language, or rather that the language I speak happens to coincide with the terms that are used in the class. It is a beautiful thing, to find harmony in wavelengths, and to understand things deeply, or at least to feel as if one has the key to open the metaphorical door to understanding. There are moments of epiphany, of ideas that nudge my perspective to see a phenomenon in a novel way, in a way that yields previously unconceived notions. Through these new angles of viewing, a particular aspect of the world suddenly makes a whole lot more sense. Rarer are the moments when discussions in class articulate an idea that I've had for a long time, but have not phrased as precisely or as technically. Suddenly, an impression becomes an idea, moves from the shady world of being just a suspicion to becoming a testable, observable hypothesis about how the world works. There is a great sense of empowerment in these moments, when you feel like you are suddenly given the tools to articulate what you think, and to test in a rational and structured way whether this idea is an accurate representation of reality.

And today, reading Homer's Iliad, I finally had a big-idea moment. Today's big idea: the dilemma over choosing a short, glorious life or a long, unremarkable life is not what primarily motivates Achilleus, at least at the end of the book. Rather, he is motivated by fellow-feeling for Patroklos, particularly a thirst for vengeance for his fallen companion. The winning of immortal glory and renown for himself is secondary to the objective of avenging his friend. And with this idea, suddenly Achilleus' unheroic behaviour and philosophising fits in with his characterisation as an Achaian hero. And suddenly, the work makes a lot more sense, and really starts to speak to me. And with that, one is not so caught up with trying to figure out what the patterns mean, and one can devote more attention to appreciating the aesthetic excellence of the composition, and one can better realise that this is really a poem, a work of art, and an elegant work at that.

My science classes, too, are interesting. Today, we talked about genetics, and how the genetic diversity in humans points to a single ancestor who came to exist somewhere near Addis Ababa in Ethiopia, deep in the shadows of the past. The really interesting point for me, though, is not that these differences exist and point to a common ancestor, but that the differences are so slight that they produce no significant speciation among humans: for all our biological differences, we are one species. Thus, the big idea is not so much that we all came from a common ancestor, but that as a species, we have the potential to head towards a common descendant. In other words, genetic knowledge is one thing, in that it makes clear the chemical potential that is available in our genomes. Using that knowledge towards an end, good or bad, is another thing entirely. The potential is there; it is up to us to tap it.

And just came out of an astronomy lab class. Being an astronomy lab, it's scheduled at night, but today we were just doing introductory-level experimentation techniques: dealing with uncertainties in measurements. Yet, there was a certain amusement to be had with the notion of me taking an astronomy class; along with the image of looking through telescopes at amazing celestial objects, I also have the image of Harry, Ron and Hermione heading up to the Astronomy tower for Divination. Sitting under the eaves of the roof of the Pupin Physics Labs on campus devising experimental procedures therefore had a parallel poetic meaning for me.

What really gets me among all this, I think, is how elegant understanding is. How elegant the process of inquiry, evaluation and recording is. Comprehension is a beautiful thing to behold in action. These lessons, I feel, contain information that I can access, that I know how to read, and this ability is also an empowerment, allowing me to be a participant rather than just an observer in the daily business of learning. It spurs me on; I seek to know more so that I can see more of the beauty in knowing.

*

Of course, then, there is also the energy of this place. The people here are very diverse, but you also realise that among the diversity is a certain unity of purpose. People come here looking for something, and though what they're looking for covers a wide range of human experience, they go about their search with comparable dedication and eagerness. The directions may be divergent, but their sense of direction is there, along with their momentum. Direction combines with energy to produce velocity. And the diverse velocities of the people here make this a very engaging, participatory and surprising environment.

And by the way, that's the view from the bathroom down there. If even bathroom windows can take your breath away, what wonders must there be available in places that one frequents more often?