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Today's quote is by Andrew Lloyd Weber, "The Point of No Return," lyrics from the "Phantom of the Opera".
I recently visited my parents and became lost in the past, their's and mine. Stories swirled about and occasionally, their's bumped into mine. Most often the recollections lazily rotated towards "The Shop," the concrete building that encased my dad's business and was the sanctum that contained my dad's philosophy.
I commented that I had learned at an early age that welding was not to be my occupational choice. "No," my mother reflected, "You would rather read than be in the shop."
Until eighth grade, reading surpassed any activity I was involved in. However, I soon had two events that jolted my conscience in such a cataclysmic way that literature became discarded and I was allured to a mistress that Carl Gauss proclaimed was "the queen of all sciences."
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| The Alluring Queen - Mathematics by Farwah Tariq |
She was beautiful in structure and mysterious to behold. Her declarations would seem obvious and dismissive but those words could include mysterious riddles and ambiguous teasers such as Zenos' Paradoxes or Schroder's Cat . As my relationship with her became more serious, my perception of her generous nature was replaced with a miserly greed that would only be succumbed by a perseverance that bordered on obsessiveness.
My first experience was due to this obsessive nature. In eighth grade, we were given a mathematics problem. A real problem that extended beyond the arithmetic problems I had experienced in the past. I was introduced to algebra as an eighth grade and my teacher, Evan Schiller, was able to draw me in with its structure and language. Letters replaced numbers but those letters (variables) fell into generalities that included all the numbers I knew at the time.
I can't recall the problem that I was struggling with, only that I agonized over it. That particular problem has been erased by time but I do remember using every waking moment trying to solve the it. I wrote on notebook paper. I doodled on napkins. I found I had a place in my mind that I could go to and close out all intruders. I was not cognizant of delivering newspapers, supper time conversations, or sermons during church. I was able to leave my surroundings if I focussed. This experience was the same experience I encountered when I read a good book. The only difference, I couldn't turn the page. I was locked in the arms of mathematics and drawn to her body. I was held a prisoner of my own desire. The desire to solve the problem.
Eventually, I resigned to let it go, to acknowledge defeat or I thought I had consciously let it go. That night, in my sleep, I solved the problem. The solution was clear. I woke with a start, quickly wrote the solution down. I was elated. I was more than elated. I was addicted. My first thought, "How can I experience this feeling again?" I later found out that this experience of finding solutions during sleep is not unique. This process is called "lucid dreaming".
The thrill of solving a problem that I struggle with and finding its solution was the best high I have ever experienced. I was hooked. My next experience was in geometry. I was studying proofs. I was struggling, again. I had concluded that I had reached a maximum point in my intellectual growth. I was unable to solve a problem involving a proof. Previous experiences in school led me to acknowledge that as each year's topics in mathematics became more challenging I had grown intellectually and I was able to meet the challenge. This year was to be the exception. I was at an impasse. I had worked on this proof at home and at school for days. The solution was beyond my reach so I let it go.
At the moment of letting go, the queen extended her hand, grasped mine, and I entered my room of solitude. As I did, her eyes twinkled, and she laughed. The laugh, though constrained, conveyed the enjoyment of a joker whose solution was directly in front of me if I were to only open my eyes. I did. The rush was immense. The gratification was insurmountable. I was hooked. She then opened her clenched fist and gave me another.
My first experience was due to this obsessive nature. In eighth grade, we were given a mathematics problem. A real problem that extended beyond the arithmetic problems I had experienced in the past. I was introduced to algebra as an eighth grade and my teacher, Evan Schiller, was able to draw me in with its structure and language. Letters replaced numbers but those letters (variables) fell into generalities that included all the numbers I knew at the time.
I can't recall the problem that I was struggling with, only that I agonized over it. That particular problem has been erased by time but I do remember using every waking moment trying to solve the it. I wrote on notebook paper. I doodled on napkins. I found I had a place in my mind that I could go to and close out all intruders. I was not cognizant of delivering newspapers, supper time conversations, or sermons during church. I was able to leave my surroundings if I focussed. This experience was the same experience I encountered when I read a good book. The only difference, I couldn't turn the page. I was locked in the arms of mathematics and drawn to her body. I was held a prisoner of my own desire. The desire to solve the problem.
Eventually, I resigned to let it go, to acknowledge defeat or I thought I had consciously let it go. That night, in my sleep, I solved the problem. The solution was clear. I woke with a start, quickly wrote the solution down. I was elated. I was more than elated. I was addicted. My first thought, "How can I experience this feeling again?" I later found out that this experience of finding solutions during sleep is not unique. This process is called "lucid dreaming".
The thrill of solving a problem that I struggle with and finding its solution was the best high I have ever experienced. I was hooked. My next experience was in geometry. I was studying proofs. I was struggling, again. I had concluded that I had reached a maximum point in my intellectual growth. I was unable to solve a problem involving a proof. Previous experiences in school led me to acknowledge that as each year's topics in mathematics became more challenging I had grown intellectually and I was able to meet the challenge. This year was to be the exception. I was at an impasse. I had worked on this proof at home and at school for days. The solution was beyond my reach so I let it go.
At the moment of letting go, the queen extended her hand, grasped mine, and I entered my room of solitude. As I did, her eyes twinkled, and she laughed. The laugh, though constrained, conveyed the enjoyment of a joker whose solution was directly in front of me if I were to only open my eyes. I did. The rush was immense. The gratification was insurmountable. I was hooked. She then opened her clenched fist and gave me another.
