Utterly meaningless

This is Dominic at seven months. He was born with that look on his face. I have countless photos, just like this one of him looking with wonderment at his bright new world.

If he typed he would have overused exclamation marks.

He's a boy of course, albeit an older one now, so naturally his life is still lived at full tilt. I've not seen this expression however, since sometime into his second year.

A good move for his dating prospects I suspect.

Despite having no recollection of being a baby, it's natural to transfer your thoughts onto your pre-linguistic children. As such, I imagine that Dom spent his first year shouting "Wow!!!! Would you look at that! Amaaazing!!!"

The unfortunate truth is that we, post one-year-olds, have little chance of re-capturing those purely experiential moments that the infant takes for granted.

We're lost in meaning.

The world is as it is to the infant - with all its colours, oudours and textures. It's unpolluted with any inference or meaning. Blue is simply the qualia blue; not sadness, the colour of the Conservative Party or a shit boy band. It just is.

Despite the obvious advantages to understanding meaning, we expend so much energy trying to recover this pre-state. Fuck how we try... We get stoned, climb hills, run for miles, have sex, make music, cuddle, cry and laugh. Well I do, at least (though not all at the same time).

Some of us may pray, meditate or even speak in tongues.

All of which are vain attempts to re-connect with the animal within us - that pure, meaningless understanding of the universe that will not be given context, let alone be described.

So when you hear talk of the ineffable or the infallible, or the indescribable beauty of love then this is what it means;

That I've come home from a rare night out at the pub and have blogged whilst inebriated as my wife sleeps.

In summation;

Drink it all up. Gulp it down in one great, wide eyed stare.