Knowing of the Unknown.

I have been attempting to make sense of things lately that seem unanswerable to myself. My father and I had an amazing conversation over coffee today, which I must admit that I missed with him. Most people won't listen to my rants and thoughts on the world and life because they can be quite radical. I don't necessarily believe all the radical thoughts that come out of my mouth, I just don't think when I talk because I am too busy thinking about the things I am say and don't have enough time to process every single piece of information. This leads to every single thought to come out without real logic or sense it is just the most important piece of information to reach my brain to my vocal cords. 

I was asked an interesting question once on why I wanted to go for my PhD in Communication Studies that I will share with you all.

Q: Why do you like academia Alexis?
A: Text, information, shared thoughts help me understand that which I can not explain. Though nothing is really explainable per say, it gives me hope that I can make sense of that which I attempt to make sense of.

You can imagine how baffled that individual looked upon my answer to the question. Most envy my intelligence and believe it to be a gift. I like to think that being somewhat intelligent (because I do not believe in an ultimate form of intelligence, I feel we are all intelligent in our own unique ways) is a wonderful quality to possess. Lately, I have been thinking the opposite. I feel that my intelligence and my brain in general are more of a curse. This brain functions in a way which it should not function. Perhaps I should blame my parents for letting me run into the end of a table when I was two years old, but I know that is not the cause of my thought process. It's developed over time, and in older age it seems that my brain is never asleep.When I was seven years old I insisted to my father that I was prepared to read a "big girls" novel. I grew tired of the short stories that my parents presented to me and thirsted for something with more complexity. Something that would challenge me.

 My dad brought home Moby Dick, which as many know is quite a lengthy and verbose book for a seven year old to dive into. Not only did I finish the novel I enjoyed it and read it over several times. That book was what first gave me the desire to read even more novels. I became obsessed with books, reading every moment I could. A normal child would be glued to the television, but I disliked it. I wanted to get lost in a novel. I wanted to make up what the characters looked like. The world would be created by me even though the author had their own intentions for the world. I fell in love with used book stores, because they allowed me to buy novels in large volumes. One day I read Steinbeck's novel Of Mice and Men, which became my favorite novel. It was unlike any other novel I had ever read because it was so short in length. This was when I realized an ingenious piece of literature need not be thousands of pages and could be just as beautiful in a few short ones. It was the first novel that brought actual tears to my eyes. Words.....they are powerful. Much more powerful than any television program, movie, video game, etc...

I began to become curious about nonfiction, because I had been so accustomed to fiction. Again, I was searching for a challenge. Something that would make me see things and think in a drastically different light. I began to read nonfiction religiously.I read history books, about the seven deadly sins, serial killer books, psychology books, self help/inspiration books, and even books about dinosaurs and the various theories behind what actually happened to them. I spent days in the Des Plaines Public Library thrilled with every new discovery. Instead of going for "homework" as I stated I was so much more interested in the economics section and learning something new. When I finally realized that Theatre might not be the correct path for me I took a class in every subject attempting to make sense of what I desired.

Communications didn't come to me right away it just kind of presented itself to me. People would ask why I was taking 18 credit hours with such drastically different subjects. I hadn't an answer, until taking a communications course. The reason I took nearly every subject was not because I was a crazy or a super nerd. The reason I took all those courses because they all connected to this one subject. Communications created every subject. Without it we would not have history, economics, politics, math, science, you name it the topic would not exist with the very fundamental study of communications. Without communications we could not create the world in which we live. Social structures would cease to exist, the human race would live without purpose. I took so many communication courses that I became fascinated with relating it to nearly everything. For helping to explain things that I initially could not understand.

I came to a conclusion last semester after reading Speaking Into the Air. I discovered that really when we think about it our existence requires communication. And that the unknown is what has created communication in the first place so we should embrace the unknown. This does not mean we should not attempt to make sense of the unknown. This is why I want to be an academic. I want to understand information and knowledge in a way that allows me to see the world from various different aspects. In academia I can read clashing viewpoints and see two drastically ways of conducting research, but when you think of the ultimate goal of the two I still think they both want the same type of response. To understand the unknown and make sense of it they just prefer physical vs what I like to call "self sense making" information.

So Moby Dick, led to nonfiction, which in turn led to academic journals and books. I still seek challenges and still embrace all forms of text that consist of well structured words. I believe that words are still the most powerful form of communication, especially written. Written word can never die and though Socrates feared written word and it being misinterpreted I think it is essential. Had Plato not written of Socrates and his beliefs we would never know of Socrates. He communicated the Socrates he knew allowing us to see a glimmer of what the past might have been like. Of what Socrates was able to preach in his time. I want my thoughts to not die with my body. Maybe what I write will never get published. Perhaps my words will only reach a select few. It does not matter, because it allowed me to make sense of what I see in my head. It allowed my brain to release some of the over reactive thinking. If some read my work or even this blog it just may have caused them to think something new. My words may have even touched someone in that moment. That is what is important about word and I want my word to be heard. I want my word formulations which create a compilation of beautiful thoughts and ideas to be out in the world even if only 2-3 people find beauty in them.

My mind is something that has caused me a lot of struggle, but I suppose that is why I have been given such a thought filled mind. Though I find it to be a curse I know that I must not put it waste. So this my friends is why I want to challenge people just as I have challenged myself. My mind wants to be heard, my heart desires to learn endlessly. You can never learn enough information and I feel each piece is crucial to putting pieces together for yourself. In the end we can never really explain or prove anything is true for we, as humans, with our communicative processes have developed social norms, laws, and rules. These we have to remember are developed, but not true (yes this includes science). We put names to phenomenon which we can physically see and even those which we can not see. The reason? We want to understand our existence, but when we deeply search for answers we are the only person that can explain them. We define our existence.

Sincerely,
Alexis Zoe
The utterly confused, knowledge thirsty girl.