My architecture professor once taught me that logic should be projected to its natural conclusion. That meant that if I was studying certain phenomena, say, the premise that rent is related to the dynamism of a city, I should follow that course of thought right through to its final manifestation. Or if I thought that the constant reshaping of the Singapore River to straighten its boundaries was a psychical and physical reflection of Singapore's obsession with efficiency, could I draw out that line of logic and project its future form 50 years down the road?
Another way of looking at this is to consider a seed. I've heard it said that humans often over estimate what we can do in a day, and under estimate what we can get done in a week. To further that thought, we often fail to estimate what is the accumulated outcome of 365 days of thoughts, choices, actions and words in a year. Every day exists in seed form: it is the microcosm of a lifetime of accumulated actions. Boredom is a state of unfocused activity, which leads to aimlessness. Stagnation too, is a form of non-action.
That makes me question the way I choose to live out my days. It makes me wonder about the weight of each moment, which I am often unconscious of. I live in an uncharted fashion, depending on the amount of energy I have to expend. Work occupies so much of my time and energy, after which I feel like I just want to hide in my bed and recuperate. Other instincts wrestle for my attention - the desire to maintain friendships, to explore and do something exciting, to make and create something with my hands, to attend some event or watch a show that could inspire me, to spend time with family.
What would be a more conscious way of living? (It's difficult to avoid sounding like a tree-hugging hippie.) The main components of life are unlikely to change: the cycles of work; ties of friendships and family; interests which are always relegated to the extra-curricular. So surely what must change is my attitude towards each of these things; or the way in which these are carried out, through a process that is more life-giving. It is rethinking the value of the 'mundane'- a word splattered with pessimistic undertones of ennui. It is questioning and finding purpose for the everyday, in its most predictable and banal sense. It is seeding my goals within the soil of the everyday, and realizing that gratification is a fruit in its season. It is enjoying work, and not treating it as a necessary evil. It is appreciating the simplicity of daily rituals, and being grateful for the small.
