Sometimes you read an article that just speaks to you. Perhaps it's because of the way it's written. Perhaps it's in the way it says what you think - which can be refreshing, as we often feel that we're the only ones who think/feel a certain way. And at times the article just really covers all bases for you.
This is one of those for me:
http://www.npr.org/sections/13.7/2016/08/10/489470208/the-porous-boundary-between-science-and-the-mysterious
The author - who is a scientist and a professor, and clearly a good writer - puts forth the case that the body of things we don't know - the mysterious - will ALWAYS be more than the things we can know. In fact, he points out, there will always be things we just CAN'T know. In a way, that's frustrating for people who want to know everything. Like me. But on the other hand, he points out, this can be liberating, because once you realize what's impossible, you can explore the limits of what is possible. And you're freed from the requirement to know everything.
He begins the article with the thought that traditionally, the realm of the mysterious or unknown is the realm of religion - of God. That as human beings, we tend to try to ascribe meaning to the world we inhabit, hoping (perhaps) or feeling that there should be more to life than just random circumstance. That life has a purpose beyond what is seen and felt, and that certain events just defy logical explanation or empirical evidences. The author admits that there are events that he's been witness to that cannot be explained. And that that's OK - in fact, as I point out - that's actually a desirable condition.
You see, we only stop learning as we stop asking questions. Perhaps the dark ages are dark not because the light does not shine, but because people refuse to see. This thought is a paraphrase from James Michener's book Space in which a professor is giving a lecture about astronomy. In the course of the lecture, he points out that there was a massive supernova many hundreds of years ago, which appeared on histories and star charts across the world. People recorded seeing it in daylight hours in China, on the Polynesian islands, and in central America. But in Europe, there was no mention of the event. The lecturer in the book concludes that while the people in Europe surely witnessed the event, no one bothered to write it down, and no one perceived its importance. The age was dark because people refused to see, even though the light was shining.
The article seems to be an absolution for science and scientists to know everything. It's still a worthy goal, but it's ultimately something that cannot be achieved. But it does not absolve us of the responsibility to continue the search, to expand our base of understanding, and to explore the very reaches of what is knowable. Because this is our greatest achievement - to know, and to pass on that knowledge.
I believe that there is much that cannot be explained. I am one who looks for meaning and context in the world, seeking to ascribe positive and beneficial attributes to an otherwise unfeeling and uncaring universe. I also believe that the Infinite above is mirrored in the infinite within each of us. When we expand our finite infinite (that is, the infinite that is contained within ourselves) we are reaching for the Infinite above. Which is a heady thing, but satisfying and passion-building.
And for me, irresistible.
This is one of those for me:
http://www.npr.org/sections/13.7/2016/08/10/489470208/the-porous-boundary-between-science-and-the-mysterious
The author - who is a scientist and a professor, and clearly a good writer - puts forth the case that the body of things we don't know - the mysterious - will ALWAYS be more than the things we can know. In fact, he points out, there will always be things we just CAN'T know. In a way, that's frustrating for people who want to know everything. Like me. But on the other hand, he points out, this can be liberating, because once you realize what's impossible, you can explore the limits of what is possible. And you're freed from the requirement to know everything.
He begins the article with the thought that traditionally, the realm of the mysterious or unknown is the realm of religion - of God. That as human beings, we tend to try to ascribe meaning to the world we inhabit, hoping (perhaps) or feeling that there should be more to life than just random circumstance. That life has a purpose beyond what is seen and felt, and that certain events just defy logical explanation or empirical evidences. The author admits that there are events that he's been witness to that cannot be explained. And that that's OK - in fact, as I point out - that's actually a desirable condition.
You see, we only stop learning as we stop asking questions. Perhaps the dark ages are dark not because the light does not shine, but because people refuse to see. This thought is a paraphrase from James Michener's book Space in which a professor is giving a lecture about astronomy. In the course of the lecture, he points out that there was a massive supernova many hundreds of years ago, which appeared on histories and star charts across the world. People recorded seeing it in daylight hours in China, on the Polynesian islands, and in central America. But in Europe, there was no mention of the event. The lecturer in the book concludes that while the people in Europe surely witnessed the event, no one bothered to write it down, and no one perceived its importance. The age was dark because people refused to see, even though the light was shining.
The article seems to be an absolution for science and scientists to know everything. It's still a worthy goal, but it's ultimately something that cannot be achieved. But it does not absolve us of the responsibility to continue the search, to expand our base of understanding, and to explore the very reaches of what is knowable. Because this is our greatest achievement - to know, and to pass on that knowledge.
I believe that there is much that cannot be explained. I am one who looks for meaning and context in the world, seeking to ascribe positive and beneficial attributes to an otherwise unfeeling and uncaring universe. I also believe that the Infinite above is mirrored in the infinite within each of us. When we expand our finite infinite (that is, the infinite that is contained within ourselves) we are reaching for the Infinite above. Which is a heady thing, but satisfying and passion-building.
And for me, irresistible.
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