The Unbearable Lightness of Being

 

“The heaviest of burdens crushes us, we sink beneath it, it pins us to the ground. But in love poetry of every age, the woman longs to be weighed down by the man's body.The heaviest of burdens is therefore simultaneously an image of life's most intense fulfillment. The heavier the burden, the closer our lives come to the earth, the more real and truthful they become. Conversely, the absolute absence of burden causes man to be lighter than air, to soar into heights, take leave of the earth and his earthly being, and become only half real, his movements as free as they are insignificant. What then shall we choose? Weight or lightness?” 
-Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being


...Something to ponder. 


                   Here are some of my disjointed scrawlings on the matter:


I don't quite know what to say concerning where I stand on lightness. I am undeniably captivated and compelled by the idea of weight and meaning and consequence. But, more often than not, I find myself trying to shed that desire for weight in an attempt to experience 

                                                     what it means to be 

light.

I suppose my question for Kundera is this: Can't we be light, without being insignificant?

By virtue of the fact that we exist, are we not also implicitly significant, regardless of our lightness or weight?

Can we achieve lightness, without dismissing our significance? Or, is the surrender of any lingering suspicion (or hope) that our existence is born out of some great intention imperative for complete weightlessness?

Perhaps I am reading too broadly and Kundera is simply implying that one living outside the demands of weight and burden possesses a complete disregard for the consequences of action. And that we can chose this or not. The end.


  If this is the case, I think I'd feel awfully alone in a weightless world.

Perhaps my true folly lies in confusing lightness and heaviness with insignificance and significance. The subsequent folly being my preoccupation with the issue of meaning and significance altogether. Which brings me to this reflection: 
                                                                                we exist, and that is significant. and remarkable.

Implicit in our human experience is the possibility to  experience both weight and lightness. So like Kundera says, there is a choice.... I just don't think there's a right one. Each is a valuable experience. The complete experience of one or the other (weight or lightness), however, is unattainable for a person with even one toe in the opposite pond.

maybe the beauty is in the balance -

I think I'd rather have a little of both. It's how I approach 2 scoop ice cream cones. And, like I should but never say:

Life is ice cream. Sample every flavor.

?

___________ . ___________

As for the book: A really interesting and insightful read by a Czech author. Makes poetry out of the mundane, unsavory and vulnerable bits of human nature. Expect reflection. Expect plot that occasionally feels like filler, bridging awesome philosophical essay to awesome philosophical essay. Plot which does, however, serve to cultivate characters and context worth investing in, allowing for fuller appreciation of aforementioned essays. {investment worthy characters? yes. flawed and perhaps even unlikeable? that too.}         I recommend, if you haven't read it.

{Thank you for reading the 4th installment of my posts on light.}