Dissecting the meaning of things has forever been an abstraction of mine. Whether it is just attaching worthwhile quality to what I do or think; or whether it is analyzing the implication of what I do or think, in either case it is a study which I find provokes endless pursuit. For me it is a force majeure – a recapitulation of events – for clarity and stability on the often bouncy journey out to sea.

While I don’t identify myself with social media (I have a Facebook account but seldom use it), I have however lately amused myself by visiting TikTok. The political algorithms constitute my primary focus – though I am uncertain whether the narratives are genuine or fake. The videos promote possibility if nothing else. Collaterally there is a proliferation of more believable psychological entries which I find are directed to young people whom I wager to be the predominant audience.  Many of these latter sites – in addition to giving advice about how to conduct oneself – offer general counsel about life. Following are two such witticisms.

Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated.
Confucius

The true secret of happiness lies in taking a genuine interest in all the details of daily life.
William Morris

I have deliberately displayed the aphorisms in that order: If life is simple;  And if simple is in the daily details; Then life is in the daily details. This curt review of life’s experience is nonetheless loaded with meaningful import. By extension it embraces that other valuable adage that, “There ain’t no ship to take you away from yourself; you merely travel the suburbs of your own mind.” The thrust of these maxims – like most of life’s philosophic directions – is upon the present and the immediate (not the past, future or imagined). By the same token it is a bracing resolve – a splash of cold water. It is a distillation and settlement of conduct; a reduction of objectives to what is at hand. At the same time it is a reminder that the world – wherever you may find yourself – is always gilded by the boundaries of one’s own mind and body.

Lately the physical boundaries of activity have arisen as a more frequent limitation to my erstwhile projections. I should too acknowledge that physical limits are as well spiritually motivated and internal. Exploration needn’t be a superfluous ambition – there is no need to go around the world to see the other side of things. The capital of life’s experiences – whatever and wherever they may be – are forever within the scope of one’s mind. The paradox of perception is that stepping back may increase the view and the rewards. Detail – it hardly bears repeating – is in the eye of the beholder. What however distinguishes the vision is not so much its native singularity as the enhancement of the process of discovery.

What profits a materialist to have a hardware store of products if each is nothing but a collection aimed at fulfilling an appetite long ago dispelled? There is no cave big enough to house all that there is in life. Each hoard is nothing but an atom of the whole. The complication only discolours and contaminates the entirety. Counting one’s advantage may be unwittingly diminished by removal from detail. Excess is a blur. Awakening detail on the other hand may prove more nutritious.