A brief introduction to a terrible itch of an idea
I try to solve the reason behind everything. “This is how they know you.” – Ouda from Ace Venture: When Nature Calls.
Lately I’ve been doing a lot of self analysis and in this process have stumbled upon some fantastic books on habits and human behavior. As a pretty standard staple to my life, I’ve also been reading and watching lectures on quantum mechanics, cosmology, time travel, history, and neuroscience. There have always been metaphysical and philosophical problems that arise after a day or two of in depth research/entertainment. I ponder and mold them over in my mind, form my own understanding on the subject and try to tie in ideas and theories from other disciplines and arenas of thought. Some would be time consuming leading me on conquests into unexplored regions of my mental landscape leaving behind deep grooves within my squishy thought tissues.
Only after throwing habits and human behavior, “why we do what we do,” into my metaphysical detective work has a huge conundrum arisen. And placed me in the annals of history in the section of great minds who have pondered the same. This has led me to unintentionally be consumed by a terrible itch of an idea in the middle of my brain; free will is just a construct of the our minds due to their complexity. Our wonderfully paradox producing brains have given us a way to cope with the unknown future by allowing us to believe we have a say in creating it. It is of no surprise really. We all participate in hypocrisies of belief and action every waking moment.
I would very much like for there to be free will, but no matter how much I go over it – from quantum mechanics to cosmology, to neuroscience, philosophy, psychology and sociology – my belief in free will has all but vanished. Like a paper burnt to ash. What words were known are all but smoke slowly fading. I’m trying to retain the smoky belief of free will. But I’m no longer convinced in it’s existence, just the slight chance it can. A feint possibility is all that exists for it in my mind.
I don’t like believing we can’t control our lives let alone anything. The shear complexity of it all. I need there to be a way to lash out at the Universe when things aren’t going my way and shout, “Not today! Give me back my purse!”
I plan, in no set time frame, to elaborate on my findings. Fate will dictate when that is shared with the world.