In continuation of what now looks like a trend, a few nights ago, I explored what it means when people try to make their life make sense, writing themselves into their own stories with their own motifs. Most of these stories arn't particularly interventionist - while they might either assume their meaning extends beyond their holder or not particularly care, they usually don't explicitly recognise other such visions or attempt to intervene in them. Then there are people whose stories do suggest or mandate this - I don't think this makes them any less beautiful or worthwhile per se, although people with ideas like this may be bound for struggle (when "dreams collide").. To a certain extent, if we accept that there is an underlying reality in which all these dreams/people play, collisions in reality will work their way up into the dreams, although this is quite different from being aware of and judging other dreams as part of one's own meaning of life. I think doing so is part of being a philospher, and also part of a great number of other things (social activist, moral person, etc). If we are to condemn people, we should not condemn them for intervention per se, but rather certain types of intervention that go against their (or our) values, things that are ineffective or have predictably unproductive results, etc. I think sometimes I've been a little bit too blunt in smashing meaning in other people's lives that I thought was not well thought-through or harmful to society - I don't regret trying to manipulate people towards my ideas of the good, but doing so gently and appropriately is important.
Last night, I felt the pull again of some minimal philosophical Buddhism - the three marks of existence given in their philosophy really make a lot of sense to me (a few other bits seem to be reasonable, although I think most of it is garbage). It was strange feeling a lot of the dissatisfaction I've had for awhile kind of melt away - I think it was a mix of accepting things and letting some attachments and roles that I let myself fall into drop off. I don't know if these things will come completely back, but I woke up with a light heart and things still feel different. Hmm.
This morning was kind of amusing - I proved that I can still, despite having lived here for four or five years now, get lost in Squirrel Hill - the roads bend in strange ways between my apartment and the neurologist. I managed to break my laptop bag irreperably (the strap connector came off on one side). The doctor was pretty cool - I was pleased to be up enough on my brain anatomy to talk shop with him for a bit (mainly about interesting disorders and the role of some brain areas), showed him my brain on my laptop, and eventually talked about migraines (apparently my symptoms are perfectly textbook). I'll have two new medicines to try, and hopefully we'll get this nailed soon.
I have a bunch of new books to read, loaned to me by Lizza and Em. Hurrah. I need to track down Groen to see if he's still in town (I've heard he's leaving or has left) and has my books. I want to spend a lot of time outside now that the weather is awesome. Travel arrangements are now 90% made - it's nice to have that out of the way. I just need to figure out what remote parking lot to park my rent-a-car in before I rail into the city. Hopefully leaving my accordion there will be safe. Ann Coultier will be in town on Sunday, and I'm thinking about going to see it for amusement.. maybe. It might be nicer to spend the day in Schenley/Frick. I'm really looking forward to the first warm rain.