Seeking. Seeking. Looking for something further, something deeper, something hidden within the lines that appear before us. Those three dimensional images hidden in the canvas that only appear when you focus your eyes in a specific way. It is the hidden parts of life that make it worth living. When you don't know what's going on…when life is working you and pushing you and basically chewing you up for its own pleasure. That's when it seems that we have so much more to live for.

Of course, sometimes that's also the point where you are saying, what the hell am I doing, and why am I doing it? It's the adversity; it brings out the best in people. So often we don't know just what we are capable of until we actually try to do it. I don't mean when you just attempt something and then give up a few hours or even moments later because you feel it is impossible. That's not real adversity and the reaction to it. Adversity is when you have nothing else but your own power keeping you alive. When the only choice is to either carry on through the hardship or to give up and die. I often wonder if it is something hard-wired into our brains so we don't just curl up into the fetal position whenever life gets so bad it hurts. In some ways, it doesn't make sense. At times the hardship is so great that all you want to do is die, but there is no way you'd let yourself. Why is that? I'd ask what makes life worth living, but I already know that there is a different answer for every person. And when you compare all of them you find certain undercurrents; your friends, your loves, your hobbies, everything you enjoy which makes up the 'who' that you consider yourself to be. That is what makes it all worthwhile. For some odd reason it seems like that is true. We hold the idea that we are a unique individual, who has loves, desires, pleasures and pains, to be a very special one…whether we know it or not.

Is it the feeling of being that is so enticing? Is it that we don't know what else there is and are scared of that void? Perhaps. There is so much that just doesn't make sense to me in this respect. I've been at those places where I just wanted to stop, wanted everything that was going on to stop. I wanted to curl up into a little ball on the floor and be sucked away into the nothingness. There were even a few times when I did curl up like that. I could not get away though. Getting away is not that easy either. Maybe that's the reason people don't. Depressing isn't it?

So what's gotten me into this place right now? Stuff, demands, so many things to do and not enough time to do them all. The usual thing that people feel to one degree or another as they go through their day.

A few nights back I was into a good conversation, which is one of the things in this life that I live for. Anyway, I was talking with a friend about so many different things, and we were travelling from topic to topic. However, at one point we got to something that I have always been intrigued by: the conception of infinity. Not just the mathematical idea that there is something which doesn't end and we represent it like so. We were talking about religious beliefs (so many philosophical conversations turn to this eventually...) and I brought in my idea that the universe and things-in-general always were. Not that everything suddenly began one day and someday it will also end, but just that everything that is now was also before in some other form and will always be in one way or another. Now, this is something that I cannot write, and I cannot explain. I still don't have the best grasp on it. This is because I like explanations and I like to figure things out. So, the idea that the universe goes on forever in any direction is just incredibly hard to grasp because my mind wants to follow it out there. To make sure, to feel it is right, or just to see for itself how far the thing really goes. That's the problem because if the universe goes on forever, then how can a finite mind comprehend that? How could a finite space hold the whole of infinity? I don't know. There are so many times my head has started hurting because I've tried to grasp this little concept: the universe is. It is everywhere, it is every-when, always growing, always shrinking. It's both minute and immense. It is everything, all at once.

Well, my words never transmit this concept well enough. Someday I'll write it, or someone else will, and it will capture the essence of the thought so perfectly. Maybe that day has already come and gone, somewhere else, some-when else. Maybe it won't come for an unmeasurable amount of time.

So where was I going with this? I don't know. I was just talking, thinking, being. This universe is immense, and it is the complexity of it that I find fascinating. It is the challenge of realizing the infinite within the finite that I find intense. Someday a mind will see where everything has been and where everything is going, and then that mind will be everything. At that point it couldn't be anything else.

So what am I seeking? That being. That understanding. That is life.