Dissatisfaction

For in much wisdom is much vexation, and he who increases knowledge increases sorrow.

- Ecclesiastes 1:18

To borrow a line from Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, "The more I see of the world, the more I am dissatisfied with it."

Some days I hate knowing things. I hate knowing that there are problems in this world that can't be fixed. I hate that there are paradoxes with no solutions. 

I've been feeling this way a lot lately...

So of course I found it ironic when today in class one of my professors addressed this type of feeling. It's an upper-level psychology class and lately we've been talking about some pretty dark mental problems. The kind that can't really by fixed and that usually affect more than just the person who has them. 

I have hated this part of the class more than I've hated any other thing I've learned in school (including my math and science classes, which is really saying something). I've never dreaded going to class so much as I have during this section of Abnormal Psychology.

So today the professor read us the above verse out of Ecclesiastes and then he said he had a question for us. But he prefaced his question by telling us that he wanted us to consider our answers not just in light of the class, but also in the grand scheme of learning in general.

He asked us, "Would you go back? If you could, would you unlearn all of the things that you hate knowing about? Would you trade being wise for nice feelings?"

Food for thought...

English-y Thoughts...Kind Of

The other night I was bored so I pulled out the textbook from my very first literature class. It was a two credit class that surveyed world literature. The book weighs seven pounds and it christened my birth into the world of, "Excuse me young lady but I'm afraid you're much too small to be carrying a book that big." 

I'll never forget how intimidating that class was. I'll never forget how much time I spent trying to understand what the heck was going on. Mostly I'll never forget the feeling that I would never in a million years be able to figure out what these archaic authors were trying to tell me.

Five giant literature books later I still find myself fighting the same feelings. But it's funny because with each new semester I find that I understand things in a different way. The difficult classes I've had these past few years make so much more sense now that I'm not in them!

It's strange how hindsight seems to give me the clearest insight into things. 

In a few days my blog will be two years old. It's strange to look at some of the things I've posted over those two years. So many memories live in between the thousands of lines I've written. It's funny to look back at things and think about how now I would approach them in a completely different way. And it's refreshing to look back at other things and know that I did the right thing. 

Anyways, it's almost one in the morning and I can't sleep...hence the thoughts that lead to post-writage. Why do I always seem to start my major thinking after 11 pm?