Repetition

After finishing the book on states' rights, which was awesome, I began reading one of Jacques Derrida's more prominent books: Voice and Phenomenon.  Derrida is one of the more preeminent philosophers of the 20th century and has had a major impact on how all philosophers think nowadays, as well as how literary theorists and writers think.  At least, writers should take Derrida into account when we think.  Part of me wants to read Derrida for that reason--to be a writer knowledgeable of what signs, signifiers, differance and trace mean for "meaning" when writing--part of me wants to read Derrida just to say that I've read Derrida.

While reading Derrida, I came across one of my major mantras as a person, and as a thinker and writer.  Though in a completely different context, Derrida argues that repetition is what gives meaning and identity to a thing, to an object of any kind.  Of course, Derrida is referring to the meaning of words: only through constant repetition does a word take on meaning--if I say "cat" meaning cat, but then say "lamp" and then say "house" and then say "girl" and then say "mfupsus" all while intending to mean the same thing, cat, then none of the words will mean anything.  In other places Derrida argues that other factors are involved in giving words, or signs, meaning, but those are the more philosophical concepts that need not concern us here.  For the moment, be satisfied and understand that only through a sign's repetition can any of us know what the sign signifies, what it means. 

Now I'd be a total liar if I said one of my mantras as a person, thinker and writer has anything to do with how words attain meaning and significance.  I'm not sure I could care less about that, though I do acknowledge I should be aware of it.  What I care about is the repetition piece.  Anyone who has read Soren Kierkegaard more than a little and also knows that I absolutely love Kierkegaard should know why: repetition is not only what gives words meaning, but it is what gives our lives meaning as well.  Reading Derrida has simply reminded me of that fact that Kierkegaard always does his best to convince his readers of; indeed, reading Derrida has reminded me of one of my major missions as a writer.

It should go without saying that I plan to write an essay on the relationship between Derrida's sense of repetition and Kierkegaard's sense of repetition and what means for living.  Off the top of my head, though, it would seem clear that the idea is this: to gain identity and character one must repeat and repeat.  My main concern as a writer is the tendency I perceive in the people around me to not feel comfortable with their lives or who they are, not knowing how to live a meaningful and content life, and seeking pleasure and identity in all the wrong places in all the wrong ways.  I can't say that I know the secrets as to what should be done, but I do know that repetition needs to be involved if we ever hope to establish an identity and then relish in it.  Too often I hear people say, "Don't knock it till you try it," or, "I'll try anything once," and a bunch of related catch-phrases intended to end all argument.  Well I will argue.  Nevermind the fact that usually we employ those phrases to shun responsibility and engage in harmful activities.  Let's assume that no particular activity harms us more than another.  Still, one will never be truly happy or, which would be even better, truly content if the "Don't knock it till you try it" and "I'll try anything once" attitude reigns.  To establish an identity, character, and livelihood with meaning and joy we must choose a way of life and repeat, repeat, repeat.

Similarly, choosing something to believe in, a religion or not, to center one's entire life around will engender meaningful repetition.  One should be able to encounter a choice and not have to rack one's brain over the choice, the choice should come naturally based on central faith.  But it will do us no good, and ruin our meaningful repetition, if we believe, say, in making and hoarding as much money as possible and then one day be convinced by a charity to donate a small fortune.  That will only bring doubt and, worse, anxiety into our lives. 

I don't mean to say that once we choose a way of living that we can never change nor am I saying that we should all be strict moralists who only "do good."  All I'm saying is that in the world of post-modernism too many people flit from one identity to another, one act to another, without any intentionality involved, without any repetition, and then wonder if there is more to life.  Without intention there is no repetition, and without repetition there is no true contentment, and without true contentment we are missing out on a whole lot of life. 

At a glance, what I'm saying in this post forms the heart of who I believe myself to be as a writer.  It might not always be explicit, might not always even be implicit, but this is what I'm about.  So now you know what goes through my head while I'm reading, how my reading influences me, and what I most hope to do with my writing: help others establish an identity that they can be comfortable and content with and feel empowered by.  Of course, I hope that identity will be rooted in God, but if God is who we say He is then all I need to do is plant a seed free of emptiness, depression, melancholy, and sorrow.

Clearly the essay that I will write on this will kick some serious butt.

Relationships in the General

Romantic relationships can be emotionally stabilizing or motivating, and can also be a great distraction, but relationships with friends and family are a must.  I’ve talked about my friend Alexandra enough that this should already be obvious.  Whereas being in the middle of a romance may inspire one to greatness, especially if you are married with a family that needs financial backing and financial wooing, properly developing friendships and family relationships water the seeds of intellectual rose petals.  Without these intellectual rose petals, you won’t be a writer and you won’t be successful.

Financial wooing is important, trust me… if there are any sugar mommas out there to support my life forever, or just some well-meaning patron, contact me immediately.  Still, a writer must be able to spend time in the fields of intellectual and artistic greatness if personality-destroying fame is ever to become a reality, and that does not happen in romantic relationships.  Romantic relationships are, as I said in my previous post, a distraction to the type of thought and work-time a writer and artist must become well-acquainted with.  Perhaps a romantic relationship feeds the right emotions needed, but the required processes of the mind need to be fed somewhere else. 

For some, a Lone Ranger fight against the world is the intellectual field that will bloom greatness; even for those some, of which I consider myself one, friends and family are still needed.  Maybe the ties with friends and family don’t need to be strong but they need to exist all the same.  Family provides, at the very least, a source of ego-stroking love that every writer wants.  Starting out is a hard business and I couldn’t imagine doing it without the knowledge that I have a family behind me.

Friends, though, are the key.  It’s not a bad thing that you can’t choose your family—our families are a lesson in life if nothing else—friends provide the opportunity to choose characters, minds, and abilities that will help you grow as a writer, an artist, or whatever the heck you want to be.  My friends Alexandra, Paul, and Ben Sloan all bring an artistically-minded confidence to our friendship along with their brilliant artistic abilities, for whom I am particularly grateful; my “other” family as I call them, the Ulmers, along with Dr. Scott Kisker, bring me a source of spiritual support and forgiveness that I’d be lost without in addition to a constant, high-level intellectual challenge to all that I think and believe, not to mention that they are great friends and great models for the life that I hope to lead; and I have a wonderful collection of friends whose faith and love will always keep my writing grounded in the realities of life as well as my dreams for what life could be.  These are the qualities that I most value in friends for the sake of our friendship but also for the sake of my hoped-for career.  It’s a lesson that we all must learn: how to choose friends that will breathe life into our soul and help us mold ourselves into the person that we want to be.   And sometimes, you just need to spend time with people that you love, friends or family, to laugh heartily.  Hopefully, though, those people that you “just simply love” also possess the qualities that you’d hope for in a close relationship or more of an acquaintance-type relationship.

Of course, we cannot forget the many people who have already shaped us as we go forth to choose our friends.  It is with their memory that we should best learn the type of person that we want close to us as we move forward in life.  Just last night, actually, I had a dream that my poetry professor who died a number of years ago was alive and that we could again share poems with one another.  That was an important relationship that will stay with me forever.  My grandmother who passed away, and my grandmother still living but that I am only now starting to greatly appreciate (I’ve been a terrible grandson, son, brother, cousin, nephew, all of the above, for most of my life); my grandfathers, my cousins, aunts, uncles, and obviously my nuclear family; my Spanish teachers, my philosophy professor, my English professors, and my seminary professors; my pastors, particularly John Wesley Taylor and Allen Merrill and Doug Robinson-Johnson; all these people have not only shaped who I am but have worked hard at protecting me, loving me, and teaching me, and just plain making sure that I’m alive, that I owe it to them to learn the valuable lessons that they have to teach me and to make something of myself.  Even if you, my reader, decide not to have close relationships with your family or any of the people who have gone before you, I urge all of us to remember those people so that we can create better relationships moving forward with people that we most want relationships with to best shape us and develop our greatness.

Greatness may come isolated but never in a vacuum.  I myself isolate myself oftentimes, sometimes accidentally but usually on purpose, but that doesn’t mean that the relationships I have with people aren’t important.  I’d still be without any life-vision or right perspective on the work required to be a writer if it weren’t for Alexandra, Paul, and Ben.  And I’d be totally without an intellectual vision if it weren’t for the Ulmers and Dr. Kisker.  Relationships, not romantic but just general relationships, are vital to creative greatness. 

I only wish that my friends and I had some cool name like the Inklings.

(P.S.  I promise to stop theorizing on life in the near future and focus more on what I’m actually doing with my life to make all of these dreams come true)