black swan

So I’m reading a book called The Black Swan; a novel written by Nassim Nicholas Taleb. Its premise is the big uncertainty that people never take account of… one that is never mitigated for… one that no contingency is set aside to take care of… simply because living in a box prevents us from thinking outside of it. As a result, society has conditioned us to very rarely factor in any uncertainty associated with black swans into any of our evaluations.

People used to think that all swans were white… it was what was once known to be true so during that time one would have been ridiculed beyond humiliation for even daring to think otherwise… that is… until a black swan was sighted.

An unassailable belief, eventually disproved has three attributes: firstly, it is rooted in the realm of regular expectations; secondly, there is an extreme impact associated with the realisation that the belief no longer holds true; and lastly, there is a need for a concocted explanation that fits. The third is necessary… why?... simply because people do not like the unknown… I guess it is comforting to think that everything can still fit neatly inside the box they choose to live in.

Like I said in the house of agbada daggers, this is my look inward through an enclosure of boundless space. This weblog is what I use to capture thoughts and memories as they occur since I don’t keep a diary. The good thing about this practice is I cannot hide behind retrospective distortion… I cannot overevaluate because my ability to rationalise to a final answer is limited.

Does it really matter that I am doing this without the full benefit of hindsight… I guess it is a condition of life that one suffers or benefits as a consequence of a series of unfolding events without never really being able to see the full picture. I hope that by writing down my unrevised perceptions that contain no illusions of understanding, I may study these events later… to be better prepared perhaps... is that even possible?!... not absolutely.

As this is a diary of sorts, I should have started this entry with how I was feeling today…physically, I am fine… well apart from my nose… you see yesterday I decided to be lazy (by not walking over to the passenger side of my car to get my shopping) which resulted in me smashing my nose against the side frame of the car as I turned to remove the shopping bags that I had reached over to get. I swear to God I thought I heard a crack. Now how is that for unplanned impact?... lol… I laugh now but it still hurts like mad... I can breathe ok so I didn’t rush to A&E.

So apart from that I am doing okay (the ton of assignments I have to do for the various projects I am working on don’t count).

So now I sit in bed and type this to the still of the night. I am one that has always cherished the peace within. Yet for the past four weeks I have lain awake listening to the searching hum of your song. Why? To you I am a black swan: ‘the incomprehensible’ despite the fact that I try and stay as what you know.

How I wish I could make you understand that Flying Snow is a just that part of me that dares to dream the serendipitous dreams of the black swan. Will you not dream with me? I know you are scared but try and understand that people in glass houses should not throw stones... our joint failing is that ‘we do not learn that we do not learn’.

I love you but I do not understand this need of yours for corroboration… as you look for strength in confirming bias based on loose concoctions; I see vulnerability. I know why you are desperate for others to see a false danger by disconfirming my establish truth… but how can that work? you were the one that taught me that my world is not flat, but round. Truth is truth.

These past few weeks, before I laid my head to sleep, I have looked to the faith in myself and prayed, just like you taught me. I still see a world of infinite possibilities. Let me tell you of one of other marvels the Good Shepherd showed me: it was you. I saw you smiling, arms outstretched and full with your parcels; gifts of love, ever selfless.

Your love is like nothing else: giving, insightful but it can also be lawless, crushing and unremorseful.

You are afraid,
I am afraid.

Mãe, I keep trying but you have to meet me halfway…