Education, Philosophy, and thoughts of the world.

Man struggles within a bruden life and is lead to sit and ponder his misfortune and mortality.  We all at some point arrive at this point where life has become a wreckless abandonment of aberrant hope.  It is only when blockades and obstacles penetrate our daily routine of comfort and commoidty that we understand our humaness as well as manness.  Is it not manness in the gender sense of masculinity but in the sense of waht is the essence of man and being.  Reflecting on life and contemplation brings us to a stillness, or at least that is what we hope to accomplish.  Stillness, the time of reflectiona nd tranquility in our thoughts.  In some ways I picture this like a laptop that has gone blank to hibernate.  We hibernate i nour thoguhts.  We swim around and reflect relentlessly for answers that cannot be found in our reflections.  When we dream we are again plagued by ciclicar reflection that continues unbound and fruitless.  So life is a contemplation.  The mere fact that we can contemplate makes us human.  It is our ultimate essence above the animals and it is also the unstable tool of our demise.  Life is a path, a process, and an experiment.  We live by trial and error.  Some try to live by a formulate that attempts to reduce errors (or sin) but we all must particpate in the fortune and misfortune of life, it is what makes us so.  As we contemplate we must remember that we contemplate with the ego in mind and others.  It is hard for man to remove himself from his thoguhts but once he becomes the object of himself and subject of inquiry outside of his sibjective conciousness then man has truly found a stillness in being.  Try to sleep and dream of nothing.  While you think about nothing you are thinking and thus maintain the cycle of contemplation.  Many have questioned and pondered life, but life as a universal concept is of no consequence.  Life as that of an individual's world and understanding is the ontolgical, metaphysical, and unnamable.  That which we cannot name fills us with the most joy and hate in a dialectical exctasy.