All is well that ends well

September 7th 2007

Prima, quae vitam dedit, hora corpsit.
Simone de Beauvoir begins "The Ethics of Ambiguity" with this quote; "The continuous work of our life, is to build death." This was the end note of my final conversation of the evening. Is it not true? Why is value so important to us? Why do we value objects, each other? If nothing else we live our lives struggling to build some element of merit that will carry on into, and beyond our death. The person I was talking with, he argued with me that the point of life is to live and continue to live. And though we will one day die, we continue to still reproduce and carry on our species. I agree with this, but I believe we're saying the same thing.
I was reading some of the work of Anne Bradstreet today. Both a brilliant woman and writer, and also a woman of great faith. What captivated me the most was the letter that Bradstreet wrote for her children. Upon her death she wrote and clearly stated her intentions. And with that also a poem, in which ends with...
"And 'fore she once would let you fly
She shew'd you joy and misery,
Taught what was good, and what was ill,
What would save life, and what would kill.
Thus gone, amongst you I may live,
And dead, yet speak and counsel give.
Farewell, my birds, farewell, adieu,
I happy am, if well with you."
I immediately decided that I was going to do the same. I want nothing more then for my children to learn through me, and I want to prepare myself for this by building a foundation within myself that is strong.
Many men who I respect have said one of two things to me, if not both; Kendra, you are one of the most intelligent women I have ever met. Kendra, you are one of the strongest women I have ever met.
I find it hard to agree with this, I want too, and often do, ask why. But at the same time, I take it for what it is. I don't claim to be of sound intelligence, and I certainly don't claim to be strong. But hearing it again tonight put me into a new perspective. One of which I know, is of a greater benefit then any other perspective I have previously held. It is true that I have become more arrogant in my demeanor. I think highly of myself, and rightfully so. But I am also very humbled. The thing is, tonight I realized that everyone has or will have a first love. It is not just any love, it is something that we will hold to the highest regard throughout our lives. My first love was curiousity. I loved to learn, I loved to question, I loved to explore my options. No human being can ever give me greater a reward or satisfaction then that that I have gotten out of this. Knowledge is unconditional, and the quest for it will never fail me.
Many people will tell you that you will have to fight for what you want. I'm not a fighter. I have nothing to fight for. The fact is, how do I, or any of us for that matter, know what we want? My grandpa used to tell me when I said that I needed something, "Kendra Nichole, do you need it, or do you just want it?" Oftentimes it had something to do with something along the lines of cookies. But now it means so much more. Now I see that I am asking myself the same question to some effect. We want what we are conditioned to want, but do we need it?
Not usually. There are many things that I want, and they bring me temporary happiness, which is all that I can account for. What is it though, that I, or any of us, need out of life? The answer is exactly what I said before. All we really need in our lives is purpose. The thing that I've come to realize is something that I've always known but never wanted to accept. The primary sense of purpose I get out of life does not come from objects, things of materialistic value, and also, it does not come from people. I do get some purpose out of these things yes, but not the profound and ultimate purpose I am looking for. I would love nothing more then to find a person who gives me a reason to live. But this is completely nonsensical. It is cute to believe that everyone has a soul mate or something of the sort, but is it rational? Does it even matter? Maybe, there does in fact exist some man who has the capacity to fully understand my persona. Maybe there is someone who would see no change when my side profession of actress becomes retired. This is hard for me to comprehend, being that even the most intuitive and intelligent of men have yet to really understand how I think and feel and why I think and feel. The fact is, I've humor them all into believing that they have an idea. Why? I'm not really sure. I suppose for the sake of their pride, or maybe just because I don't want to tell them otherwise. More than likely it is really just because I see no purpose in striving to prove myself to someone whom I've all ready determined is never going to get it. If such a man exists, I wish him well. Our paths will probably never cross.
The interesting thing is that I used to be very distressed about feeling misunderstood. I did all in my power to fight the perceptions of other people so that they could see what it is I really stand for. I have since come to accept that this is a losing battle. Everything is subjective and we are subjective to everything. The difference in understanding this, is that now I don't see it as a negative thing, in fact I find some sort of satisfaction in knowing that I am the only one who will ever really know me. I am a keeper of a great secret.
I've never worn my heart on my sleeve. And I wonder, especially lately, if this makes me considerably less honest. The problem is the process. I feel something, feelings I guess that you could say come from the heart. Those feelings are portrayed, but there is a middleman that is overlooked or disregarded. That middleman is rationale. Because somewhere between feeling and acting comes thinking. I would love to act solely on feelings, if for nothing more then social experiment. How would others react? Is that something that a person can really handle? I guess you could say, that my mind intercepts these feelings and turns them over countless times, beating them senselessly with the ideas of potential consequences. I guess you could say, that I'm sparing you the weight of the truth.
The thing about Beauvoir that really amazes me, is the relationship she had with Sartre. I read into it a lot, read the letters they wrote to each other, read about their lives. They were life long partners, respected eachother to the highest extent. But one thing that stood out to me was the question in an essay, how did Beauvoir really feel about the relationship? It would be very unconventional to believe that Beauvoir lived her life contently with her pseudo relationship with her colleague and never strived for anything more. It would be unconventional to believe that she never secretly longed for something as cliche as marriage, or some commitment worthy of third party recognition. It is hard for me to believe. And because of this I insert an element of sadness into everything of hers that I read. Maybe we are wrong though, maybe she was in fact content. Maybe she actually held everything that I have said in writing this to be true. If this be the case, God I admire her.
Many people would be uneasy accepting that the continuous work of our life is to build death. But it would only be uneasy for the same reason that anything causes us unease, and that is fear. I however think that this is a beautiful thing to accept. As Anais Nin brilliantly put it, "Those living deeply have no fear of death."
The subject matter seems morose. But if you know me at all you know that that is not how I percieve life. Call it postivism, call it optimisim, call it whatever you'd like. It is those questions, not their answers, that keep me fulfilled.