Inquisitive creatures

Touch the ceiling. Stretch your arms and push your toes as far outward as you can. Pull your fingers so that they reach the roof. Feeling the highest point of the room. You pull your fingers across the roof and feel the rough ridges bounce your nails back and forth. Meticulously understand the structures that your hands graze across. But does all of this help you better understand yourself? 

Explore yourself. Feel your skin. Whisk your fingers through every hair follicle from your frontal cortex to the back of the skull. Push your neck side to side and hear your spine click itself back into position. 

And then you will let others explore you. With a hug, or a kiss, or even just through companionship. They will try to understand you. And you will try to understand them. You will ask for answers, and try to gauge their experience, and take something from their experience of you, so that you can gain a deeper insight into what you call yourself. 

But once you have explored the things around you, explored yourself, and jumped into the deep end, and let others explore you, what is left to do? Integrating all of these experiences into one universal understanding? Using it to calibrate your actions and reactions through?

It seems all so trivial. To seek meaning through things, others, and even maybe ourselves. Maybe the true meaning is to not understand anything at all. 

Photographer: Nikita O