Elementary, My Dear Watson ...
I love a good mystery. I love to read mystery novels, I love to watch mysteries on television, and I love the overwhelming edginess of mystery films on the big screen in the cinema.
I love how the traditional mystery unfolds — the crime scene, the DB (dead body), the suspects, the clues, the suspenseful twists and turns of the investigation, the fatal flaw in the murderer's plan, and the climactic revelation that sends the killer to a lifetime of hard-time or worse.
The beauty of a good mystery is that the storyline transforms murder and mayhem into some meaningful world of order. Confusion and chaos have their moment but are eventually vanquished, and all our expectations that the world actually makes sense fall back into place. It's the perfect happy ending to a tale of death and disillusionment.
I must admit, however, that I was a bit shocked when. just the other day, it dawned on me that everything in life is a bit of a mystery.
I mean, it's not like we wake up to a crime scene, but every day of our lives can be pretty unpredictable. Sure you might have the best laid plans, but even our most concrete intentions to do this or that will often go south in a hurry. Sometimes, what you expect will happen, simply doesn't happen. You're left dangling like a participle, and you have to be quick-witted enough to think on your feet.
How many times have you found yourself saying, "What the heck just happened?" to which another voice in your head replies, "I haven't a clue."
You see ... mystery.
Just when you thought your life was about to turn right, it turns left. There is no DB splayed in some ridiculous position on the kitchen floor or slouched face-down in a silver bowl of mashed potatoes at the dining-room table, but there is definitely a puzzle to be solved. There is a discombobulation to unravel and set straight.
Now you don't have to be Sherlock Holmes, Hercule Poirot, 007, Austen Powers, or even Charlie Chan to solve these mysteries that pop up like weasels in our lives. Usually, all you need is a good dose of common sense, and you'll be able to solve any mystery. Just remember that you must never leave the unexpected neglected. If you do, you'll become more and more confused and end up floating on a sea of question marks.
No, your mysteries are meant to be solved by you, order restored by you, because in doing so, you are defining your reality by asserting what you believe is the answer to the problem. You are defining who you are.
If you don't solve life's mysteries for yourself, then someone else will surely come along and solve them for you, and in the process, that someone will define who you are, because you were unwilling or unable to do so.
I can't imagine an unhappier ending.
I love a good mystery. I love to read mystery novels, I love to watch mysteries on television, and I love the overwhelming edginess of mystery films on the big screen in the cinema.
I love how the traditional mystery unfolds — the crime scene, the DB (dead body), the suspects, the clues, the suspenseful twists and turns of the investigation, the fatal flaw in the murderer's plan, and the climactic revelation that sends the killer to a lifetime of hard-time or worse.
The beauty of a good mystery is that the storyline transforms murder and mayhem into some meaningful world of order. Confusion and chaos have their moment but are eventually vanquished, and all our expectations that the world actually makes sense fall back into place. It's the perfect happy ending to a tale of death and disillusionment.
I must admit, however, that I was a bit shocked when. just the other day, it dawned on me that everything in life is a bit of a mystery.
I mean, it's not like we wake up to a crime scene, but every day of our lives can be pretty unpredictable. Sure you might have the best laid plans, but even our most concrete intentions to do this or that will often go south in a hurry. Sometimes, what you expect will happen, simply doesn't happen. You're left dangling like a participle, and you have to be quick-witted enough to think on your feet.
How many times have you found yourself saying, "What the heck just happened?" to which another voice in your head replies, "I haven't a clue."
You see ... mystery.
Just when you thought your life was about to turn right, it turns left. There is no DB splayed in some ridiculous position on the kitchen floor or slouched face-down in a silver bowl of mashed potatoes at the dining-room table, but there is definitely a puzzle to be solved. There is a discombobulation to unravel and set straight.
Now you don't have to be Sherlock Holmes, Hercule Poirot, 007, Austen Powers, or even Charlie Chan to solve these mysteries that pop up like weasels in our lives. Usually, all you need is a good dose of common sense, and you'll be able to solve any mystery. Just remember that you must never leave the unexpected neglected. If you do, you'll become more and more confused and end up floating on a sea of question marks.
No, your mysteries are meant to be solved by you, order restored by you, because in doing so, you are defining your reality by asserting what you believe is the answer to the problem. You are defining who you are.
If you don't solve life's mysteries for yourself, then someone else will surely come along and solve them for you, and in the process, that someone will define who you are, because you were unwilling or unable to do so.
I can't imagine an unhappier ending.
