The Terrible Beauty of Knowledge

The discoveries of this world are endless, and boundlessly exciting. I may never understand what the world looks like in the eyes of another creature or even another human being, but our imagination can allow us to pretend. I often like to pretend that I am the ground, as I let my bones sink into the earth as flat as can be, allowing my vision to expand in every direction as if I am all knowing and let the changes occur. That is, I like to think that my mind is as large as the other side of a black hole and therefore is all encompassing. However, I am reminded constantly that I seem to understand an inconceivably small segment of this earth, and even then I know that I know nothing. Thus, I am thankful for my curiosity, my ability to conjure questions, my thoughts. If I had no useful part of my body, at least I could have my mind. In order to exercise my curiosity, therefore I must explore.
In the book Pilgrim at Tinker Creek by Annie Dillard, on page 43 she ignited my thoughts about this earth and its humans in her quote, "I'm getting used to this planet and to this curious human culture which is as cheerfully enthusiastic as it is cheerfully cruel." She speaks of redundant Christmas cards and slogans that seem to discourage her enlightenment of novelty but also hurry her to embed herself in the tangled trees and to observe habitats out-of-doors timelessly. I often find myself in an anxious twist when I finally let my mind rest at the end of the day and I have dreams of running away from authority and boundaries. I encourage myself then that I need to enjoy my soul as I see it most clearly; away from human distractions. Dillard describes herself as a pilgrim, which I think can be used in many contexts. Pilgrims could be found in the bushes hunting for lizards with their eyes, or they could also be in the library, or maybe on a farm. What I enjoy about Dillard, however, is that she is constantly asking questions; about her environment, about herself and her mind, or how her experiences tie into her own spirit. When one actively quests for answers or even for just questions and observances, I find this person (or creature) as a pilgrim.