November 25, 2007

3. Significant Value of Emotions

I am infatuated by dark quiet nights. Every time I find myself emotionally on my own in them, I discern a sort of uneasiness around me. However, I feel myself as a part of the tenebrosity surrounding me. I don't have to worry about anything. It's just me, the atmosphere and the feeling... and slow jazz music... all that there has been in me... and animateness.

For the very first time in a long while I feel implicitly calm and profound, yet anxious about something I have no idea of. I don't have to think about which accessiories to wear tomorrow to feel good in public. I have no obligation to cerebrate about all the unreplied e-mails I've received, nor to think about what to buy from the supermarket tomorrow. And, oh yes! I don't really have to cogitate about concluding a contract for selling a house, nor what the legal status of an MP is in a state. It's just me, here and now, doing nothing, and I think, it is beautiful.

Estonians are always making haste somewhere. They seem to be trying to reach for something unreachable. It wouldn't really be a problem if they enjoyed doing it in the process. But oh God, no! Almost every second person older than 30 I meet on the streets looks so depressed, downtrodden and lonely that I can physically perceive his/her wish to get drunk, go into the woods and pull the trigger (not that Estonians younger than 30 are extremely happy in my opinion). No matter how distant and imperturbable I consider myself to be, such a widespread condition has some kind of an influence on me, too, particularly when I meet so much bitterness, lack of depth, ultra-materialism and unreasonably big self-centeredness on every step I take. If this is going to continue the way it has been the last 20 years, I'm afraid, in a century no-one will remember what kind of a drug eSTONia was.

For too much of my life I have generally been a loyally stereotypical Estonian. Yes, though I am proud of having Estonian roots (not that I am a patriot, or something), I sincerely believe that being an average Estonian is much worse than walking on the streets of Milan wearing clothes bought from a cheap second-hand shop. As much as my experience has proven, Estonians have (generally speaking) become goal-oriented materialists, who value only what they can see and touch. They don't give you a smile if you're just a distant "third" (so one should consider himself lucky when he is not yelled at after asking for a favour from an occasional person on the street). They cannot think and behave outside the box. If anyone tries to stand out from the safe average even in the least noteworthy way, people think that he's crossed all the limits and see you as an enemy. Thus, I don't really wonder why Estonians, compared to most of the other nations in Europe, tend to be willing to commit suicides statistically so much. Some think the best way to solve their problems is accusing communists, Christians, homosexuals, and Britney Spears of them. I think they should all think again.

Being a law student in Estonia has had a controversial effect upon me. Law has helped me start thinking more systematically, seeing the world on a more logical basis and bound a link between my specialty and daily life. Nevertheless, the concept of law relies, to a large extent, on people's material wealth, which has no meaning in the bigger plan. When all I am constantly occupied by has its roots in our budget, I begin to feel that I have lost the animateness and mysteriousness that were characteristic for me in the critical years of my life. I haven't had many chances for developing myself in other spheres than law. Having a soul yearning for knowing more and more about the phenomena I'm surrounded by, I feel rather imprisoned in this context, particularly in consideration of the fact that I am a conscientious perfectionist who needs time for exploring the world. As a consequence, I dare to claim that in my case a higher education and a successful career are rather overrated.

Tonight brought me back to the safetiness of the past, when I had time, resources and, most importantly, the will to do everything I wanted (of course, otherwise this piece of text would not exist). I feel that I don't have to hurry anywhere, I don't have to act in order to make an impression to someone, I don't HAVE TO do anything. Trying to learn how to fly doesn't really matter, worrying about the future does not really matter. All that matters is just around me, nothing more.

Yes, I know that such a decadent feeling is not entirely justified. But I really don't give a hoot - what I should always be listening to is the feeling. Watching the film Der Untergang almost made me mourn for Adolf Hitler. Reading the modernist novels that are based on the technique of stream of consciousness inject a large amount of empathy in me. Enjoying the Portuguese fado makes me extremely nostalgic, and as a result of watching the photographs of the highways of south-western U.S. I perceive the beauty and the indefiniteness of the world. Emotions bring me through the burden of annoying details of everyday life, and that is of significative value.