I just
finished reading The Solitaire Mystery by Jostein Gaarder. His novel Sophie’s
World is better known for sure but The Solitaire Mystery is my favorite Gaarder
novel. And I have read a few...
This is not
my first reading of the book. This was, at least, the fourth time... It seems
that every time I read it, I retain something different. This time I have taken
notice of the message about being conscious every day, every moment possible,
of the fact that being alive is one great mystery. This pops out so clearly
that I am surprised that I hadn’t seen it before, at least not like this. As
for the insight I might have picked up from previous readings... I can’t seem
to remember. All I know is that I loved the book every time!
The
Solitaire Mystery is a philosophical tale, though not as wide as Sophie’s
World. Many different angles are addressed but the main line is that we all
should be very surprised of being alive and of all that surrounds us on this
planet. But most humans are totally oblivious and walk their lives as if blind.
When we are born, as babies and then as children, we ARE all quite surprised
and amazed about EVERYTHING. As the years go by, we slowly get used to it until
one day, everything seems normal... even boring.
We then reach
for the magical feeling by searching for anything that seems «not of this
world»: coincidences, spirits, god, luck... But we do not notice the simple
wonder of being live, conscious beings, part of the long history of this
planet, in this universe. We have forgotten that the simple fact of being born
is against all odds. And that every day and every thing is a mystery to be
amazed at.
I’ve been
thinking about this on and off over the past few years, and sporadically trying
to develop the «habit» of amazement. I should say to regain the capacity for
amazement.
Today, as I
walked to my office to put in a few hours of work, I looked at my surroundings more
closely than I usually do and found many amazing things. Lines of chairs on
almost every porch tell of family evenings sharing stories, an old fence post
all gray with moss, a white cat sulking in the sun, a few leaves swishing in
the wind. Things humans built, decaying slowing, plant life, clouds, insects, warmth
of the sun, and wind on my skin. I just let my senses take every detail in as
if for the first time. Sound, smell, texture, colour envelop me every moment of
the day as I breathe in and breathe out, alive on this planet, part of a line
of life that began long ago and will continue long after I am gone.
What will be
left of my passage here? Certainly nothing I have done or created – even if I
built a pyramid, the endlessness of time would one day render that to dust too.
But maybe some of my thoughts will go on... because time can not destroy thoughts.
