What do you do for fun?
It's a question I was genuinely asking people for awhile. I wasn't interested in what their hobbies were, exactly, so much as what did having fun look like? What is fun? What brings joy? It seems to me that the things I do for fun begin to wane exponentially in how much I enjoy them as I get better. I like to learn how to do things, but I'm not actively interested in doing them. Not the most logical way to be, but that's how I am.
The older I get, the shorter the time between learning how to do something and how much less interested in it I get. I used to think it was just something about mastering a skill; writing used to be fun until I got bogged down in how it had to be good. I thought it was about pressure, about standards. That might be part of it, but bigger picture, I think it also has something to do with the lack of novelty. The more you learn, the harder it is to really, really learn anything new; most knowledge is fractal. The more diversity of topics you study, the more you will see how everything is an iteration of itself. Brains behave like ecosystems. The laws of quantum physics resemble thought patterns. Bacteria and humans are the only life forms that are cultured.
Just as much as I like to learn new things, I like to create them, and there's a point where those two things become very blurry. What I know, what I believe or have created become very intermingled. That's what this blog is, and that's an important context for all of my thoughts here. These answers are stories, jokes, personal journeys of a comedian. I am uneducated, but I am very creative. Once you hit the limits of what you can learn, you start creating explanations based off of what knowledge you've accumulated in the past.
Most things are unsurprisingly systemic. It makes sense that everything in the universe has some ties to each other, from the molecular to the incredibly vast, because it's all existing at the same time. It all exists within the continuum of time, so more or less, everything is by some extension "touching." Maybe this is all a correlation fallacy, but I've always thought it's a naive if not well intended rule of science to assume there's no meaning. Arguably science simply isn't concerned with meaning; that's a territory for philosophers and artists. Science looks for the nuts and bolts, but why would there be any if there wasn't some use for them being there?
This sounds a little bit like an argument for God, but I certainly don't mean it to be. It's an argument for systems, it's an argument for coexistence de facto; things coexist because they exist simultaneously, that doesn't necessarily mean it's pleasant or harmonious. It is certainly an argument for something bigger, if the universe is one whole. It involves a god about as much as you are god to your blood cells. Very little of what you do is directly concerned with of any one of them as an individual.
There is a somewhat controversial theory called the Gaia hypothesis that the earth is actually an organism, with every part, from tectonic plate movement to weather systems, functioning as some kind of organ or unit. Despite its many criticisms, I am very fond of the Gaia Hypothesis. Some variants of the hypothesis suggest that "Gaia" is an emergent entity; that the planet as an organism is created from the interactions between everything in, on and around it.
Moreover, if we go off of the Gaia hypothesis that the earth is an organism, it's just as reasonable to assume that that it's also a cell, an organ, an organ system of the universe. The function of the planet earth is just as insignificant on the large scale as a single red blood cell. If everything is connected, everything is in infinite regress. It would seem the universe is only partially concerned with logic.
As a teenager, I thought about Gaia hypothesis and its arguments and often came to the same doubt, that many people who ascribe to that theory assume that our planet is "healthy." In terms of the rest of the universe, arguably we're the only planet that "hosts." Maybe it's more healthy to be turbulent gases than sustaining a biosphere, cosmically speaking.
Zooming back in to our planet as an organism, we could easily find a niche for our species, a purpose. It's easy to find meaning in your life if you think of us as evolved caretakers of the planet. Because of our voracious appetite for information and its exchange, novelty and curiosity, humans could cozy up to the idea that we're the neural network of the planet; we're the keepers of the earth's thoughts.
Good job hippie girl! That sounds amazing! Maybe it would be, if our planet were a psychologically stable one. If the Gaia hypothesis is correct, if the planet is an organism, emergent from its parts or simply comprised of them, we are the black sheep of the galactic family. The "brain" that is humans, is wholly sick. We are the neurons of a schizophrenic planet.
If music if the space between the notes, then maybe nature of the universe lies in the nothingness within atoms. There is a lot of emptiness in us, and what we do, and only moments where things come together and make sense. I'm not sure how much of this has been learning, and how much has simply been creative thinking. I have been needing a lot of space lately, and with no sense of irony, I have been turning to the stars to find it, and it's been fun.