Yesterday, in rare moments of rest, I saw again my thoughts piling up in overlapping layers (yes, far away from Aristotle’s logic, ‘IF this THEN that’); could not get away from thinking what has once been a sort of belief; that we are made of overlapping layers. Which layers are visible, to us or to others autonomously, varies depending on internal and external space and time.
Sometimes we add artificial layers like the work diving-suit (can also be just a helmet) in order to have a bouncer for the muck that any job sticks on ingenious non-career people. Sometimes we dive in amorphous depths with the hope that there is something there, maybe the most inner layer, the one that will justify all the rest.
Jacques Mayol, the free diver who inspired Luc Besson for the film ‘Le Grand Bleu’ (The Big Blue), was also looking for something in the great depths. Later in his life he admitted to have found nothing more than the known, conclusion which lead to depression and suicide by hanging at the age of 74.
With depression thriving (cause or effect?), our Western society does not favor free dives; doubt, philosophy and death (our own) are excluded topics. People uniformly directed to tangible activities, become web-editors instead of writers, professionals instead of artists; talk of products instead of creations; look at the model instead of the beauty; show proudly other people’s miseries (and make careers on that) instead of daring to look at themselves , after all the only subject that they could really analyse. No, I am not talking about artists telling us their own boring story; I rather think of free divers who pull something out of any depth and any layer; and then let us also see and compare with the hope that we may understand a small bit of the grand basics: who we are, where we come from, where we are going to.