As fun as it has been spending my time bike riding and lifting weights and reading books on esoteric modern subjects and watching independent movies and listening to independent music, I cannot help but think that there is a fork in the road available just ahead. I am coming to the conclusion that the simple and absolute benefit of all these things is an illusion.
How many of them will I remember? Certainly, the book I am reading on consciousness ("Consciousness: An Introduction", go figure) is fascinating, but I am absorbing frighteningly little of it. There simply aren't enough memorable ideas to hold together a narrative, which is how we are most apt to learn. Instead, there are isolated pockets of highly interesting, memorable studies that have been done that unfortunately do little to clarify the most important overarching ideas by themselves. Usefulness is simply an illusion if we forget a book when we put it down, so what use is this one to me?
Tonight I am wondering, how many of the pursuits I've found - so easy in concept - are similarly illusions from which I will receive no ultimate satisfaction?
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