Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Can Human Care Make Men Good?

A few nights ago while waiting for an order I met a cardiologist who is reading classics he's never read. He told me he is reading The Three Musketeers for the first time, and loves it! He was a chemistry major, he said, and never read these "classics" while in school. The Count of Monte Cristo, an 1846 European bestseller by Alexandre Dumas, this cardiologist said, is still one of the greatest books ever written. I've never read The Three Musketeers - though I feel I've lived variations of it over and over!

It was fun to exchange with someone who liked circling back to old "art" as he also wades in "new science" and fast-paced thrillers. He writes a lot - about science, medicine, lingers, savors Robert Frost, and, apparently, martinis.

I thought later about "classics." What we call classics in any aspect of our lives today: cars, clothes, familiar, standard, traditional, exceptional. The precision of thought required to know a pattern well enough to recognize its validity and legitimacy within the evolution of society and its own field and function, and then within our own individual path of growth. This is not necessarily the same as a "specialty, or an 'expert." This cardiologist was, apparently, an "expert" in his field, fully functional in the body of knowledge his own specialty seeks and uses.

Recently I said to a friend, after thanking her for helping me with some computer tasks,I feel I know a little about a lot of things, a lot about a few things. My quest in life certainly has been, and is, to know myself as thoroughly as possible. As a human being. This quest took me through the tangle of depression, because those were the woods of dispiritedness that I had to make my way through before I could "see the light." What is the light? The energy of love, of thought, of caring comes to light as a mind opens itself to change, and this energy in its infinite variations is one of the most beautiful sensations I can imagine.

Meeting a high school friend for dinner over the weekend brought up more memories of the "way we were." He had read my book during his beach vacation, and we laughed over his choice of "light reading." You projected such calm, such assurance, he said, and I remember that you laughed a lot! I did, I said! I was calm! Now I understand more clearly what I sensed! Our conversation prompted me to clarify again the many nuances and differences in being aware, conscious, knowing, and doing (infinite levels of expression). It takes time for the currents of thought energy to make themselves known to a growing mind while the heart beats, patiently. That's one reason we created Time, I think. It was such fun visiting with my old friend and sharing our life tales of the moment. In the last several months I've heard from several old friends - not just prompted by Dad's death in February, or by FBook. I'm glad for these cycles of life-sharing. Every moment, clearing the cache, refreshing my screen.

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