Age and Tide

There are multiple ways to turn any natural observation into a metaphor for our lives. Having lived near the sea for most of my life, I am well aware of tides. Age often leaves us casting about for glimmers of cosmic understanding wherever they may occur.

The most famous metaphor is of course King Canute, ordering the tide to cease. A symbol of the uselessness of trying to prevent the inevitable. More deeply, a warning of how stupid it looks to attempt what common sense knows is impossible .

But there is also the idea of ebb and flow, high and low, translated to good times and bad. There will be in any life joy and pain, both of which usually pass one to another in a complex but inevitable rhythm .

For an older person, however, there is yet another lesson, which relates to deceptive normality. The high water mark is indicated with only minor variations day to day and season to season. But suddenly that can change in storm or tsunami, and rage well beyond what we thought we understood as limits. Leaving behind destruction and _ of course _ death .

So here we are, metaphor in hand. Is this next problem merely a usual tide or something worse?

It’s easy to become anxious when the predictable breaks the rules .

No Return

One thing I learned over the years is that social stability is often a kind of mass illusion. People, for example, tend to believe that prices remain steady, or always go up, or will go down. Or that the future will be better. Or that they should do certain things. Until, almost suddenly, everyone changes their mind.

There are parallels in science. Supersaturated solutions will suddenly crystallize. Some “tipping point” is reached and a structure fractures. All of a sudden, equilibrium is different. Or lost entirely to chaos .

Science prefers – which is to say we prefer – a smooth glide and predictable gradual transitions. Our forecasts generally assume trends are known and that the future will mostly resemble today. We project our own ambitions into a future that in most ways resembles our past .

That all works pretty well until it doesn’t. And, like those supersaturated solutions, things can change fast and in really unrecognizable combinations. Society reaches some point of no return – bread lines turn to looting, the king is killed, whatever – and nothing is ever the same again .

I guess things could all turn out to the good. But. Inflation, AI, automation, internet, fusion energy, ecologic disaster, endless lists. Any one of them could unexpectedly end what we assume to be forever .

And, really, not much we can do to predict or direct the outcome .

Optimism

I try to be an optimistic person. I generally believe that things will work out for the best. It makes my life happier .

Yet there is a world of ambiguity in any concept such as “optimism”. To begin with, nobody can know anything about the future. Beyond that, exactly what “things” am I selecting for prediction? And what I mean by “best” may in no way relate to what you consider good. No need to belabor the issue. Like “beautiful,” it is a concept that seems to mean something to everyone, but can hardly be pinned down. Nevertheless, I remain an optimistic person .

I try to pick things that have some actual relevance to my personal well-being. I can be optimistic, for example, that I will enjoy dinner tonight. And by a magic mind trick, I could even be optimistic if I think the dinner will be awful – because it will soon be over !

There are infinite outcomes to choose from, and many ways to wonder what might be “best”. Instantly we bog down into dreamy lists and semantics .

At my age the key is really careful selection of discreetly small things, in a pretty short time frame. And a concept of “best” that reduces to how much worse it could be .

I’m an optimist, but hopefully not a complete fool.

Best of my Possible

Surrounded by babel about infinite multiverses, I have my own fantasy that my soul manages to navigate, pick and choose among them. A thread aware of the past and future, trying for an optimum path in what we call time, freezing yet another life in some new groove, or maybe just replaying it .

It’s all philosophic twaddle of course. I don’t really buy into the multiverse. No idea what time really is, but pretty sure that mostly what we experience is some form of underlying reality. Nobody knows. Nobody can know. I don’t care except in idle daydreams .

It’s been a very fortunate life, so I have the luxury of imagining I live in the best of all possible worlds – for me. My very own best possible life, unconcerned with all the other possibilities.

Oh, of course, much of that outlook is constructed by skillful editing, shaping nostalgia to focus on silver linings, “accentuating the positive”. No apologies. It’s a nice way to view the world, at least as one grows ever more elderly .

Each day now I can look back with fondness, enjoy some happy memories, and not worry at all about what I must do nor regret opportunities lost. I suppose all that is simply symptomatic of truly losing my mind .

Modern Socialism

Politicians are once again concerned about “socialism” almost as much as they were about “communism” in days of yore. They predict bread lines in New York, no houses for anyone, and dust and empty shelves for all. Just as in the USSR, China under Mao, North Korea now. That economic vision (whatever it is) has been proved by history to fail .

Yet today, there are elements of socialism everywhere, as there are elements of capitalistic free enterprise almost everywhere. There are few bread lines, and few any worse than in the “food pantries” set up for the (more fortunate) indigent in the United States .

The fact is that none of these systems is as it once was. Socialism, communism, capitalism are all far different in current practice than their conceptions of 100 years ago. The ongoing industrial and information revolutions have changed economics mightily. A world of (at least temporary) abundance based on possible ecologic disaster fails to fit any of the classic patterns.

What is unfortunate is that every thinker with an ax to grind pulls out the old unvarnished philosophies instead of coming up with something new, positive, and relevant. Our current drift may sooner rather than later be disastrous .

Joy of Surprise

Many times in my life I have purposely tried not to overprepare. Careful planning and study can dull the joy. At least for good things, I have always appreciated surprises .

Now that I began drawing again., I have gone through the usual process of learning to be an artist. At first I was overwhelmed and fearful at making “mistakes”. Then with practice, I was able to concentrate on the general shape of what I was trying to do .

The true reward is beginning to arrive after 6 months of mostly concentrated effort. Some of the things I do are once again surprising me. My intuition kicks in and spontaneously adds a doodle or line, which turns out to be quite interesting. My hands almost guide themselves as I pay more attention to the general vision of what I want. And at some point, as I finish up, I am happily surprised at the result. At least some of the time …

When folks speak of becoming like a child, they often mean being able to play. Surprise is a part of that. I merely extend that to utilize it in other areas of my life .

These days it is much too easy to know (or think we know) too much. Sometimes, ignorance can truly provide bliss.

Matisse

I suspect most people walk into a room, glance around, and when they find nothing threatening nor astonishing, begin to concentrate on whatever purpose at hand. I myself tend to ignore most wall decorations out of rush and habit. And, after all, paintings are really just simple wall decorations.

That’s why I like Matisse. Unlike artists who wish to make us look, try to change our character, to disturb the bourgeois, or to follow some obscure vision, Matisse accepts being a relaxing wall decoration. A beautiful and amazing wall decoration, to be sure, but no more than that.

Matisse is no simple artist. His pictures do reward long and deep study. There is always nuance in the deceptively simple presentations. But if you do not feel the nuance, his paintings are also just lovely background. A lot like nature itself .

I admit a preference for bold colors and strong drawing which he consistently delivers. Blended subtlety must be left for others. His work is usually joyful, exuberant, and makes one smile when it is noticed .

In a world of acid religions, societies, and politics, it is refreshing to contemplate his world of “lux, calme, et volupte.”

Impenetrable

There are many things I do not know nor understand. Some are too complex for my humble brain. Some simply do not interest me. Many I am too lazy to waste time on. But a few have become truly impenetrable .

To me, impenetrable carries a different connotation than “unknowable” _ an article of faith. I accept many things as unknowable – the meaning of life, the purpose of the universe – and most of the grand religious philosophic questions like free will and the true nature of time. Impenetrable rather means that something may have reasons, but they cannot be discovered by me. The best example is other people’s hidden motivations.

The boundaries between impenetrable and unknowable are tenuous and shifty. Which gets to my main focus of this essay: the future. I always accepted its details as unknowable, but I thought I understood the basic outline.

Nope. Now everything is both unknowable and impenetrable. Next year seems a gray goo, with no connection to the present. I can project no trends .

That annoys me because as an avid SF reader from childhood and student of history still, I unaccountably convinced myself I had some idea of what was happening and where the world might be going .

No more .

Shrinking

Roman and Greek morality looked back at an imagined golden age in the past and sought to emulate its heroes. A massive outlook change in Western culture (maybe science, industrialization, Christianity, or phase of the moon) had us looking at imagined futures instead.

There is now little respect for those who do not plan future growth. Yet I’ve been shrinking physically for some time now, shorter by at least an inch. My mental agility is declining. As I passed through my ’70s energy waned, senses were less sharp, memories became more important. I accepted that as natural, but society does not .

Young “whippersnappers” tell elders how active they should be, how they must engage in hobbies, how they must struggle to be better. Apocryphal tales speak of “old” people suddenly starting companies and becoming wealthy (although the definition of old seems to be creeping downward into the ’40s …)

In my newly engaged art pastime., I’ve decided to do away with future marvels. I simply want to use my reduced situation – senses and skills – as valid restrictions to construct unique artifacts. If my sight is blurred, let my drawings also be so. If my hand shakes, utilize that in my lines .

Not to get better in the future. Just to enjoy being a shrinking being as much as I possibly can .

Paradigm Shifts

A paradigm shift occurs when former ways of thinking and living no longer work. In personal terms it means our common sense and traditional values no longer apply, and new ones must be created .

Joseph Campbell in his books on mythology made the interesting point that such historic cultural breaks often occurred rapidly (in about a hundred years) then settled in for a long time (thousands of years). A good example is ancient Egypt .

We seem to be in the midst of the whirlwind. Our thinking is forced into new patterns every year or so, sometimes even more often. And unfortunately, it is impossible to tell what will emerge or whether we will like it at all .

My point is that our times may be very unusual. After the dust settles – for better or worse – whatever system of thought survives may last for a very long time indeed .

Okay, a comforting long-term thought. But it doesn’t help each of us now as the storm rages and high waves rock the boat. All we can do is deal with changes as they wash over us one after another .

The curse of “interesting times”. At least we still have the option of imagining various happy outcomes .