The following is a homework assignment for a religious studies class I am auditing. It is probably absolutely meaningless to you, but read it if you like!
After reading Annie Dillard's essay Teaching a Stone to Talk, I must admit I have difficulties reconciling her voyage of self-discovery with my own. She goes from wanting to be a playful sea lion to wanting to be a much more sedate and watchful tree. Perhaps the lack of reconciliation on my part is because I'd much rather be the sea lion. I'm more content with being noticed than doing the noticing itself. I suppose this is because I'm both unobservant and rather self-absorbed. Perhaps when I'm too old to continue in my hyper-physical ways, I may want to slow down and become a tree.
I interpret the gist of "Teaching a Stone to Talk" as saying the purpose of existence is to notice and be noticed. This meshes with self-discovery in that self-discovery could be defined as the noticing of various elements about oneself. However, I'd be more inclined to say there is no actual purpose to existance. I believe we are simply because we are. Didn't the burning bush say something similar with its "I am that I am?"
This is not to say that there is anything wrong in creating your own purpose in existance. The premier example in the essay--the man who devotes his time to teaching a stone to talk--is analogous with meditation. By attempting to teach to stone to say one simple word, the man is using both that word and the stone as focii. It's really no different from staring at a flickering candle flame and droning "Om." In getting his son to take over the task when he dies, he is ensuring the meditative tradition is passed on.
But is he fulfilling the purpose of his existence in terms of Ms. Dillard's definition?
I don't think so.
I think he bears a kinship to the sea lions. His life is rather single-purposed. As the sea lions live to play, he lives to teach a stone to talk. He doesn't notice the other things in life, as do the white, lichen-encrusted trees.
Then again, he is being noticed.
We are here...
Date: 2004-09-18 12:40 am (UTC)From:Re: We are here...
Date: 2004-09-18 01:11 am (UTC)From: