This is what we call a “corny” post

A moment ago I was staring into my favorite oil painting that's on the wall. It's abstract, really it could be anything. To me it's peace. A swirl of blues, greens, and yellows. A blissful state that makes me think of air and water: the very things that make me free to live. To my luck this came on the radio (internet radio, mind you):

 

"Extra Ordinary Thing" by Aqualung (courtesy of azlyrics.com)

Cheer up it might never happen, oh, it might never happen; we, we'll see
As I sit here spitting and churning, oh, it's clear its happening right now to me

Make it special for a loved, for a stranger, peace is hard to hard to come by, extra ordinary thing

Why not believe in something, something's got to be better than nothing
Just because it's the end of the beginning doesn't mean it's the beginning of the end

Failing fractured broken busted all for nothing sing my heart out for a stranger
Extra ordinary thing song my heart out for a stranger extra ordinary thing

 

Now because of the History of Classical Philosophy, the pre Socratics are always sneaking into the forefront of my thoughts. Of course Thales deserves the honorable ninja sneak award for sneaking the fastest. Aristotle said of Thales' idea that the arche was water: "maybe he got this idea from seeing that the nourishment of all things is moist, and that the hot itself comes to be from this and lives on this (the principle of all things is that from which they come to be)-getting this idea from this consideration and also because the seeds of all things have a moist nature; and water is the principle of the nature of moist things" (Curd 2). Personally I love the story about Thales falling into a well while being engrossed in the study of astronomy. Maybe that Thracian serving-girl made fun of him for falling into the well because he failed to "notice what was in front of him and right next to his feet" (Curd 9). But once he fell into that well—it wouldn't be a stretch to say that he fell into the arche of things. Water is a treasure and a curse—we need it more than food, (just consult the Middle East, half the wars are about drawing the border lines to include the most water in their respective countries) but too much equates to a cruel loss of life (hurricane Katrina). Still you'll die fast from a lack of air. Even when submerged in water, it's not the water that kills you—it's the lack of air.

So what of air? When I think of Anaximenes I think of a creative cheeky youth trying very hard to be serious. Probably because he aims to please by trying to make the two opposing principles posited by his predecessors coalesce: Thales-water; Anaximander-the boundless. Still when reading Anaximenes' conception of air: air "comes to be and is without measure, infinite and always in motion" I can't help but feel freed and more understanding of why driving with the windows down, yawning, and controlling my breathing in Pilates class are immensely comforting to me.

Corny, yes. But it is what it is.