‘I have always admired people who have left behind them an incomprehensible mess.’ (Bob Dylan, from an interview quoted by Adam Phillips, On Balance, 2010)

Rembrandt, ‘Philosopher in Meditation’, 1632

My life has become an incomprehensible mess. There are worse things; after all, I’m alive and healthy, I have experienced neither tragedy nor disaster. Still, I’m in my 40s, I have no money, no security, no stake in society, and no obvious prospects. Not so long ago I was an academic, doing something I loved and surviving just fine. But now my academic career is dead and I am only just about managing to keep a roof over my head. But how long I’ll be able to do that is unclear. I’ve been slipping over the edge for a while; now I’m hanging on by my fingertips, but without any coherent plan how to get myself out of the situation.

A blurry combination of design, personal failings and misfortune has created this state of affairs. But I’m not sure there is much point in picking over the history—at least, not here, not now. In fact, I’m not even sure that this is the mess I am really interested in. If I give it enough thought then my personal situation is entirely comprehensible. And one way or another I may manage to inch myself clear of disaster.

No, the ‘incomprehensible mess’ describes something more abstract than the practicalities of life. It touches on direction, purpose, vision and meaning. What seems incomprehensible and messy to me is that I have no clarity about any of those. I could put that another way: I am unclear about where I am going, what I am doing with my life, and what would make it meaningful.

Or, perhaps this: I am struggling to make sense of the human condition. Indeed, that seems to be getting closer to how I feel. This is not just about agreeing with the famous saying of Socrates that ‘the unexamined life is not worth living’. It is not simply my own life about which I have many unanswered questions—it is the human condition in general.

So I’ve decided to start writing about this. That’s not the only reason to write, for thinking and writing is what I like to do, no matter that they bring in no money (hence my dire practical situation). But I want to try the discipline of a blog as a way of exploring my questions, thoughts and ideas. It might be interesting. It might even lead somewhere…