Thought Blanket

"All I know is that I know nothing". There's an oldie-goldie. I hear it everywhere, though I can't pinpoint where exactly. We all hear it in a philosophy or English class at some point, then feel entitled to bequeath acquaintances with the knowledge that "Actually there's no record of Socrates ever saying that, we get it second-hand from Plato". Granted, it's an interesting point. 

Like nearly any phrase or warning, it's easy for the saying to get watered down in repetition, but sometimes it wiggles it's way into a context I like, and I read it for the first time all over again. It's beautifully humbling, no doubt, but two other characteristics about it that appeal to me are a) how self-aware Socrates/Plato whoever said it must have been, and b) how comforting it is. I think knowing that there are masses of information that I don't and never will have any awareness of is deliciously comforting. If I could put a thought to the feeling of taking a warm blanket out of the dryer and wrapping up in it, this saying would be the thought. 

In modern society in general, I think most people would agree there's this sentiment that if there is a thing, we need to know it. A concept, an idea, a theory, an element/chemical, an artifact, if it exists, we need to figure it out. So, acknowledging the pixels of information floating around our heads but never into our brains, and passively letting them float, is freeing, like exhaling instead of arguing, just letting it roll off our backs, wrapping up in a blanket. It's self-aware, peaceful, and wise. Cozy, easy, breezy, ahhh.