The truth is...

As I engage in the learning process at school, my mind has digested multiple ways of seeing the world. All each pointing to the same thing - truth- from a different angle. The thing that I'm grappling with now, is the very fact that the ways of seeing the world are infinite. my mind expands and expands to make room for everything, yet in the end I feel not full, but empty...of meaning. Because what is meaning, if meaning is infinite? How can I define myself- my values, core beliefs, if I know that I am constantly changing? It is within this paradox that existence is made.

Thus, with much hesitation, I realize that in order to exist I must purposely categorize my consciousness into what it is and what it is not, until I sort of tear out a shape; a shape that's constantly changing but shape nonetheless.

It's like rounding the number Pi to 3.14, such a superficial generalization that we must accept in order to make it useful. Life must be restricted in order to be useful, and then gradually expanded to be closer to the truth. I can round myself off to the farthest decimal I can reach, but the number will, eventually, need to be cut off. To live as a rounded off number in order to approximate the purpose of my life can be...frustrating. And wow, I love math allegories.

Back to my original train of thought - the fact that I'm filling my brain with idea after idea and knowing that eventually I'll need to restrict myself conceptually and align with a certain theoretical framework in order to be an effective therapist - a therapist that somehow knows what they're doing. Selecting a mode of practice gives me profound anxiety - the existential, "what is purpose of therapy" kind. Choosing what kind of therapist, let alone person I am, feels so contrived. Even the "I'm a human being" therapists are not safe from bias and inauthenticity, because what the hell is the definition of a human being? Right now, I just don't know. That's the danger of knowledge - the more we know, the more we render ourselves to the infinite, the shapeless, and the purposelessness of it all.

Which is why we have spirituality, my refuge. My faith embraces the unknown with love and compassion. Questions become the answers. Truth is unattainable; it will always be unknown. It's the greatest joy and the greatest suffering.