No fraction of a whole, Part II
2002-10-19 || 9:18 a.m.

I've always had this theory that everything we do, matters, regardless of how small the action. Even taking a breath is something quite profound.

Years ago I remember arguing about this in a discussion about closed orders. Someone said that they could not see the point of them, that, yes, nuns working in the community were worthwhile but not those who spend their whole lives in silent contemplation.

I disagree. I think that a prayer is just as powerful and meaningful as an act of charity. When I was very small, younger than five, I wanted to be a nun. I think that's pretty common really. But I always wanted to be in a closed order, not talking but internalising.

Maybe I should have done, at least then I would not have to spend time wondering why I cannot communicate with others but yet wishing I could.

But I cannot apply this meaning to me. I've been trying to understand it and the closest I can get is if you think about stepping on a piece of glass. The piece of glass goes into your foot, quite deeply. You try to get it out but fail. Gradually your body grows a skin cocoon around the glass until eventually it is entirely isolated from the whole.

It doesn't take a genius to work out if the universe is the whole, working in tandem, everyone part of it with a human body being a microcosm of this whole, then I am the piece of glass.

What I wonder though, is, are there other cocoons? Do we somehow make up an anti-whole? Because if there is a whole, there must surely be an opposite. Mind you, if there is an opposite to a whole then it would make more sense for it to be an isolated one, wouldn't it?

Therefore, I have now worked out the theory as to how I can actually be apart from the whole of the rest of humanity and the universe.

But if I am apart, and if this is truth, does that mean that by being apart I am part of that whole?

Fuck, nothing ever gets answered.