Flummoxed

Every day I get the “word of the day” delivered from several sources.    One of the words which arrived in my inbox today was flummox which I was reminded basically means to bewilder, confound, or confuse.   Apparently at some point I als signed up to get a daily quote from various sources which are then magically delivered to my inbox. Today, one of the quotes I found in my inbox is one I immediately recognized.  “To know yet to think that one does not know is best;  Not to know yet to think that one knows will lead to difficulty.” This quote is attributed to Lao Tzu.  

Since I  had just finished reading the paper when this word and this quote appeared in my inbox, I was already feeling flummoxed about how often we humans seem to pretend as if we know when we do not know.  Obviously we “know” that we do not know and yet we seem to convince ourselves that we know.  I ask myself asking:  Whatever does this mean?  Who is the subject and who is the object?  Who is the I who is asking myself?  What could the word ‘know’ mean?   In what sense do we know or think we know?  Dear me. I have just violated a cardinal rule by using the word to ask the question about a word.  No wonder I get to easily flummoxed.

The word ‘know’ according to oxforddictionary.com means:

1.    Have knowledge or information concerning….

2.    Be absolutely certain or sure about something. 

3.    Have developed a relationship with someone through meeting and spending time with them. (In the Old Testament to have known someone is to have had a sexual relationship. Thus, we sometimes might say I do not know him or her in the Biblical sense.)

Of course, thinking about the word ‘know’ leads me to the term ‘truth’ which is often used to indicate an absolute truth rather than a truth/fact as it is experienced or understood by the person asserting or uttering it.   If then I am going to posit “truth” I must also posit the concept of “lies.”    Most of us begin to collect truths and lies about ourselves and the world in which we find ourselves from the time that we have our first conscious thought (in the womb perhaps but certainly once we emerge. Is that indeed a “truth).

The problem is not that we or others posit truths.  The problem is that we humans delude ourselves into thinking that our truth is the truth or that our lies are the lies.  I listener, the reader, or the “sensor” do not want to accept that there may not be any absolute truths or lies. Certainly, it is fine that I am assuming that I am awake and that I am typing on a Macbook while sitting in Panera’s. Those are  realities which I can safely assume that I share with those who are sharing this space.   Yes, when I pick up the newspaper or turn on the television or sit down to share truths or lies with someone or some group of people  I convince myself (we are back there) that it is very important that we not only share the same general reality but that I tell “the truth”  and  that others accept “the truth” as I have expressed it.   As I read the newspaper, I am speaking to myself and discounting the “lies” which others present as “truths.”  The writer or the person being quoted is asserting truths which I find different than my version or what I think I know or what I think I need to believe because any other truth is unacceptable or unbearable to me. 

By the time I finished reading the newspaper or listening to a newscast or reading an article, I am  flummoxed  as to how  they can fail to see my truth which I think of as ‘the truth’.

What ever shall I do? I turn to Walt Whitman and his poem “All is Truth.”

All Is Truth - Poem by Walt Whitman

O ME, man of slack faith so long!

Standing aloof--denying portions so long;

Only aware to-day of compact, all-diffused truth;

Discovering to-day there is no lie, or form of lie, and can be none,

but grows as inevitably upon itself as the truth does upon

itself,

Or as any law of the earth, or any natural production of the earth

does.

(This is curious, and may not be realized immediately--But it must be

realized;

I feel in myself that I represent falsehoods equally with the rest,

And that the universe does.)

Where has fail'd a perfect return, indifferent of lies or the truth?

Is it upon the ground, or in water or fire? or in the spirit of man?

or in the meat and blood?

Meditating among liars, and retreating sternly into myself, I see

that there are really no liars or lies after all,

And that nothing fails its perfect return--And that what are called

lies are perfect returns,

And that each thing exactly represents itself, and what has preceded

it,

And that the truth includes all, and is compact, just as much as

space is compact,

And that there is no flaw or vacuum in the amount of the truth--but

that all is truth without exception;

And henceforth I will go celebrate anything I see or am,

And sing and laugh, and deny nothing.

I smile.  I am no longer flummoxed.  I know only my truths and my lies.   There are few universal truths or  lies and I no longer have to engage in inane arguments with my partner, colleagues, or others

The world will go on. Or not.  We humans will beat our swords into plowshares. Or not. We will celebrate the wonder of creation in dance, music, and art.  Or not. We will build more bombs and drop them on hospitals. Or not. We will pretend to defy mother nature until the 24 inches of rain arrives and reminds us of her truth.  We will pass laws, budgets.  Or not.   I will speak to myself. Or not! 

I will recall the reminder from Lao Tzu.  Or not.

“To know yet to think that one does not know is best;  Not to know yet to think that one knows will lead to difficulty.”

Written October 6, 2015