Sometimes It Pays to Read for Class


Sometimes the sophomore slump hits hard.  Sometimes a bad test grade can get you down.  Sometimes not hearing back from a job application can crush your spirit.  Sometimes it's easier to mask your emotions on weekend nights than force yourself out of stagnation.

But then sometimes there are words that hit you.  You have a conversation.  You read a book.  You open up.  You listen.  You really listen.

And suddenly you remember who you are, what's important to you, and where you can go from here.

I don't fully know where I went the last few months.  I don't know how I let myself fall away from the ambition and dreams by which I define myself.  But all I've got to say is that I'm back.  I'm ready to go.  I'm not going to rest on my laurels or live in the past.


What inspired this?  A conversation and this passage from Nietzsche:

"We are unknown to ourselves, we men of knowledge-- and with good reason.  We have never sought ourselves-- how could it happen that we should ever find ourselves?  It has rightly been said: 'Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also'; our treasure is where the beehives of our knowledge are.  We are constantly making for them, being by nature winged creatures and honey-gatherers of the spirit; there is one thing alone we really care about from the heart-- 'bringing something home.'  Whatever else there is in life, so-called 'experiences'-- which of us has sufficient earnestness for them?  Or sufficient time?  Present experience has, I am afraid, always found us 'absent-minded':  we cannot give our hearts to it-- not even our ears!  Rather, as one divinely preoccupied and immersed in himself into whose ear the bell has just boomed with all its strength the twelve beats of noon suddenly starts up and asks himself:  'what really was that which just struck?' so we sometimes rub our ears afterward and ask, utterly surprised and disconcerted, 'what really was that which we have just experienced?' and moreover: 'who are we really?' and, afterward as aforesaid, count the twelve trembling bell-strokes of our experience, our life, our being-- and alas! miscount them.-- So we are necessarily strangers to ourselves, we do not comprehend ourselves, we have to misunderstand ourselves, for us the law 'Each is furthest from himself' applies to all eternity-- we are not 'men of knowledge' with respect to ourselves."- Nietzsche's Preface to On The Genealogy of Morals

0 comments:

Post a Comment

Powered by Blogger.
 

Meet The Author

I'm Madysen, born and raised in Nebraska but now living out my dreams in New York City. I moved here to go to Columbia, but living in New York has become so much more to me. This blog is a space where I can share my experiences of reconciling my midwestern upbringing with the life I live in the city. But even bigger than that, this blog serves as a space where I can try to understand where I fit into the larger social world, where I want to go in life, and how I want to go about pursuing all of these endeavors.

Recent Posts

Follow on Bloglovin

Category