My friend M recommended The Book of Strange New Things to me a while ago, and I finally got around to reading it. Given my own rambling, uncertain walk with religion and spirituality, I was interested in how the simplicity of the alien characters' faith tested that of the protagonist (to say nothing of my own). I'm getting a lot out of reuniting with the Christian church, but phrases like "loving Jesus" still make me cringe.
M being an atheist though, when he and I talked, I mostly pointed to my dislike of the protagonist's left-on-Earth wife, Bea. I didn't realize why I found her so unsympathetic until nearly the end of the novel. It turns out, I think, that I find self assured people off-putting.
Or maybe just intimidating, which I then interpret as off-putting.
I feel like I am still waiting to be knowledgeable enough, well enough informed to have opinions at all. People who are comfortable defining the world in their own perimeters and then expecting others to adjust their own thoughts and actions based on them... how does that happen? Isn't everyone just pouring books into their head, reading and reading and hoping that one day it will all come together in a way that isn't just shameful, half-lit fiction?
(Wow. That sentence was a bit overwrought. Anyway.)
I am not sure how people get to a place where they can just say, "This is this, and that is that." I am stuck at,"I know nothing, so I should probably say nothing." I should probably just make peace with that, but instead I pull at my hair and feel like the lone simpleton when other people feel free to talk.
I am tired of the me/other people thing. I feel fairly certain that the key to happiness lies in not comparing yourself to others, and damn if that isn't the thing I am the absolute worst at.
Me Me Me Me Me ... should I have a blog or a diary?