Hakuin Ekaku 白隠慧鶴:
Poem on Meditation [Poem about Snow]
(Edo period, 1615-1868)

"I carry on these internal dialogues as if they might prove helpful."

I realize that every one of my dilemmas stems from dealing with essentially InfiniteSets. I define an InfiniteSet as any entity, idea, or thing that seems fundamentally indeterminate in size. These might, indeed, qualify as uncountables or just prove essentially impossible to count. Any entity so vast as to chase off any practical strategy for rendering it definite becomes infinite by default. By this definition, I am presently living an infinite life because while I know for sure it will at some time end, that ending remains essentially indeterminate. This need not goad me into profligacy, for I can always respect my potential without burning whatever candle I have remaining at both ends. I can conserve as well as consume my InfiniteSets.

I can write because language proves to be one of those essentially InfiniteSets. While there might well be a theoretical ending to language, it remains indefinite and, therefore, practicably infinite. I have written a story daily for six and a half years and have yet to repeat a single title. I could continue ad infinitum with the same result. My primary challenge with language might be to carefully choose which subset of it from which to select my words. I do not always choose wisely. Vocabulary seems a multi-edged weapon capable of simultaneously cutting in many directions, even able to slit its user's throat without him realizing.

We have been primarily trained in skills for handling shortages rather than infinities. We know too well the algorithms of scarcity allocation and how to cut budgets and shrink portions. We know far too little about coping with absolute abundance. Every shortage reflects a countervailing abundance, and each might be managed from either side of the equation, either by reallocation on the shortage or the abundance side. We have been well-trained to focus first on fiddling with the shortage, perhaps because these seem most dire. We might have insufficient something counterbalanced with an over-abundance of nothing without ever thinking of reallocating the excess rather than the shortage.

Boredom might be the primary means by which we identify InfiniteSets, for our minds struggle to cope with their presence. We prefer to feel more confident than any InfiniteSet allows, and we respond to this overwhelming indeterminism by … yawning. This might seem like we're discounting the threat we feel in the presence of the InfiniteSet. Still, we might instead be initiating a hibernation subroutine in an attempt to escape from its influence. This coping strategy rarely works, but this doesn't mean it's not often the default option.

There could be no finite advice capable of definitively resolving any dilemma stemming from interacting with InfiniteSets. All tactics seem situationally valid, and none seem capable of resolving anything once and for all. It might be a shifting context since none of us can envision any infinite we encounter. We not only lack focus, but we also lack the context capable of supporting focus, so we're probably destined to continue hunting and pecking. It seems to be helping that I'm at least recognizing that I'm not dealing with the merely complex or primarily confusing, but genuine ungrokables. I can choose from an infinite variety of coping mechanisms, but none of them have any hope of being definitively helpful. Perhaps the key lies in selecting and retaining the freedom to choose repeatedly in an essentially infinite response to an equally essentially infinite context.

Accepting that it was never my limitations determining these dilemmas reassures me, even if my notions of InfiniteSets someday prove fictional. I carry on these internal dialogues as if they might prove helpful. Curiously, they often prove useful in practice, even against the infinite.

©2023 by David A. Schmaltz - all rights reserved

Tags: #iAlogue , #PureSchmaltz