Wojciech Salski
(Un)certainty
Do you believe in a world that cannot be seen, touched, smelled, or tasted by your senses, a friend asked the boy once. I certainly have no reason not to, he answered promptly.

Living a life - such an ordinary, usual, rather repetitive in its many ways life is what everyone does from time to time. It is true that sometimes the existential monotony gives space to some unique, out-of-the-ordinary experience, but all in all, as per usual, the majority of one’s time is spent during exactly these monotonous tasks that none of us considers interesting enough to be described extensively. The boy pondered on this subject while drinking a morning coffee with his flatmate. There were many questions, that a young soul like him wished to ask, but quite frankly there was no one to ask these without the presupposed result already forming under one’s scalp. He has had those conversations with others before. With his parents, he dwelt into the unknown when discussing the meaning of life and after a thorough consideration of the many options, they also came to the conclusion that the only certainty about the idea is the uncertainty of it. Similarly, during a few arguments with his loved one, the boy realised that there was no destination to lead the conversation towards without ending in the beginning after all was said and done. It was like a maze without an exit, a black hole of contemplation, a never-ending process of questions and answers, which in themselves posed questions again. It was both exhilarating and depressing to be running in circles with these rather important subjects of ponderance. It was, at the very least, interesting. There might not be an answer, but that should not stop us from asking the questions…
*
His friend placed the phone on the table and grabbed his coffee mug. Taking a sip he noticeably considered a topic of conversation. Do you believe in the world that cannot be seen, touched, smelled, or tasted by your senses, he finally asked the boy. I certainly have no reason not to, he answered promptly. The two fell silent for a moment, weighing all ‘for’ and ‘against’ the contemplated standpoint. Well, what’s the point to think of it, if we can’t really know, his friend continued, like isn’t that a little frustrating and leading us astray…? The boy smiled and nodded slightly, that’s exactly right, but I still think it should be considered from time to time… He thought of the continuation of his argument. It helps to put things into perspective, he added, otherwise we would just bloat and bloat in our confidence and magnitude… After all, we’re not that significant you know…?
*
Significance. A word that symbolised the importance of something within the frame of one’s perception. For some, this term clothed the simple pleasures of every day, while for others it was assigned only to the unique experiences that would leap out the boundaries of commonality. Significance. A penultimate peak of one’s self-perception. A black hole of terminology. An illusion. It is an illusion, the boy suddenly spurted out, significance is only there if we think it is… His friend stared at him dumbfounded, why then do we care…? That’s exactly the right question, he felt invigorated by this discourse’s path, why do we care, if not because we want to feel significant because of the potential answer!? We’re basically looking for an excuse for our existential suffering!
*
Their coffee was cold already, so after a brief contemplation on the stated words, his friend got up and placed the cup in the microwave. He preferred his coffee warm. The boy didn’t mind though. Sitting still on the couch, he listed in his mind all the ‘significant’ aspects and items of his life. As he did, he quickly realised just how much of them were there, or at least how much he thought there were. Without me administering significance to these things, he thought, they are merely situations, items, and beings that were, are, and will be for some time until they are not anymore… How insignificant their essence is, he muttered. What, his friend turned around, what did you say…? The boy shook his head in consternation and tried to make up a smile, which was obviously a forced one. I don’t think there is any inherent significance to the things that we consider significant, he looked at his companion, but this just might be the reason why they are significant in the first place…
*
Thinking back to the question, which his friend posed a few moments earlier, the boy fell quiet. In contemplation, he considered the many significant and insignificant subjects, which became a part of his daily ponder. Whether there is or isn’t something more than what one can sensually experience, he concluded, the significance of oneself can be measured by their attitude of openness to the alternative perspective… Therefore, he thought, there is no better way of ensuring one keeps their significance strong, but by constantly putting their significance in question… Or at the very least, exercising the fun contemplation of thinking so…
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https://www.wsalski.com/post/significance
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