I’ve been thinking about perspective, human perspective: you know, how people see the world and how it colors what they do. I’ve come to a few conclusions, mostly opinions but conclusions in my own mind (there it is, the first hint of bias.)
Firstly, there’s color. Not color as in bias, but real color. When people see green, they associate it with cool and earthy and natural. Some people. Others see green and think, mold. Ugly. Grass. Someone could say that a paper is red and another person could say it is red but what if they’re not talking about the same red? What if the pigments we see are different, between individuals? And as children we’re taught that this is red and this is green, and some thinks it’s ugly and some think it’s brilliant. Is this the child’s opinion? Yes. But based on what? Perhaps when we think of our favorite colors, we’re all thinking of the same color, but it’s perceived differently from person to person. Maybe lavendar is the one color that draws all people but it is passionate in the minds of some and cool in the minds of others–sometimes it’s green and sometimes it’s red, but who would realize that anyway?
But, you might think, people associate feelings with colors. People almost always think red is fiery and green is cool. But a child, looking at these colors, doesn’t think that. He or she thinks red is red and green is green, and isn’t that color so beautiful? He or she doesn’t even know why. As they grow up they learn to associate ferocity with vibrant colors, and if their favorite color happens to be red, they associate ferocity with their favorite color. And if their favorite color happens to be green, they begin to associate all things green with coolness. Colors are not innately anything. They don’t feel. People make them feel, the same way people feel for the dead and people feel for ideals. People assign them feelings and children learn those feelings because that’s what the mass mind believes.
Secondly, there’s religion. A wide spectrum, to be sure. We have the naturalists and the god-worshippers and the God-worshippers–and all the shades between. We have the sacrifices and the traditions. Human sacrifices, sacrifices of coins, sacrifices of time and thought. People sacrifice their thoughts because something in this religion drawn up by men catches their fancy, and they give up a part of themselves to make room for the thoughts of the religion’s creators. Not all religions are like that. But most are.
I was reading East of Eden and there’s a quote that struck me, that “It would be absurd if we did not understand both angels or devils, since we invented them” (Steinbeck 132). And the devils and angels we see, how can we be sure they’re the same devils and angels some other poor soul down the street sees? Most certainly, the angels and devils of the rich man are not the same angels and devils as the poor one. Unless, of course, the poor man was once rich and now blames those celestial beings for his new existance; but even then, the extraordinary is tinged differently where power is concerned. Money shades it green and hunger shades it red. Whichever red or green the individual sees, who can say, but they won’t be the same red or green that every person sees, and thus the greatest sin and greatest gift will be different to one who would give all to be free than to one who would give all to be full. Or even, most especially, to one who would give all to be loved.
I think people find in religion different things. Like people might see different colors, some find in religion a type of spiritual freedom; to others, a cage. I won’t say which I favor because that would only be my perspective, and I’m trying my hardest not to be biased (it’s impossible, but I try). On the subject, I’ll only say that I have the feeling if I did not read, I would believe more in the God of Christianity. Who can say, though, perhaps reading is what brings some people to believe in God.
Lastly there is human nature. People are not perfect, but there might be another in the world that the individual finds more perfect than him or herself. A person might find perfection in beauty or perfection in simplicity, in elegance, in high cheekbones and bronzed skin or in pale complexion and rosebud lips. Who can say? Like red or green, perhaps we are all looking for the same perfection and find it in different things.
People need to know that perfection exists because it’s in their nature to hate what they see as imperfection. The mass mind that we hear so much of, the collective press of the minds of the people who influence us most–be that our parents, our lovers, our friends–helps to define what is perfect but it doesn’t explain everything. There are people in the world who can shrug off their conditioning like a coat when it doesn’t suit them anymore. Those are the people who succeed the most, the ones who start businesses and get rich, or paint inspirational pieces and die alone. (Success, too, is just perspective. If a person is happy, is not that person successful? Though where that leaves the majority of modern workers and businesspeople today, I don’t know.) And those who can break new ground are the trendsetters, but they always end up belonging to the mass mind because where they will not accept the conditioning of the majority, the majority allows itself to be conditioned by them. So in the end it doesn’t matter if they’ve thrown off tradition because traditions will follow in their wake.
Granted, this doesn’t include the hermits and those who die too young for others to remember as being anything other than human. Yes, that’s right–anything other than human. Because many people will agree that it is human to be imperfect and strive to correct those imperfections, making those who accept and even pander to their faults…inhuman. What it means to be human is only an opinion. Anyone can say people need food and shelter, but do people need love? If so, what kind of love? The love of a man or a woman? Or the love of nature? The love of elegance? The love of perfection?
If you think about it, you’ll find a lot of what you’ve accepted as fact is only perspective. When you have something you love unconditionally, you can’t imagine another not loving it as you do because your love is just that–unconditional. But that sort of love doesn’t come around too often. I think it’s a lot like being crazy. If you love something unconditionally, you don’t realize there’s any other alternative. When you’re crazy, you don’t know you’re not normal.
I suppose even if you could prove people like colors because they appeal to the same innate instinct, it wouldn’t make much of a difference. They’d still like the same colors and hate the same clothes and love the same people and hate the same people. I guess philosophy’s a lot about realizing the reasons behind what exists in theory, and a fat lot of good it does to change the hearts of people. You tell them the Muslim loves the same color as they do, it does not change their view of that Muslim. You tell them the child can read better than they can, it does not change their condescension towards the child. Philosophy only changes what people let it change.
I suppose that’s what blogs are for. Mine, anyway. All the things that have no impact on my life are the things I love best to speculate over, because it makes no difference to me. I always thought it was a better alternative to talking about my life. Too many people love doing just that. I think it’s rather tacky unless you’re James Bond or Oprah. Then it’s just interesting.
But who am I kidding? Maybe someone out there loves to read rants about soccer or politics. I wouldn’t know. The mass mind tells me these things are boring, and who am I to say otherwise?
