Befriending Our Places, Recollecting Spinoza

Yesterday, I again deliberately (or not so deliberately) got off at the "wrong" stop in Mississauga, ending up in an old haunt, South Common Shopping Mall. This was one of my favorite teenage "haunts", a suburban terminal that served as a midway point between my home and the much bigger Erin Mills Town Centre. I often walked to both places when I was in my undergraduate years in university. Nowadays, I have neither the time nor the inclination to do so, on top of which it was raining yesterday as well. Yet, undaunted, I decided to walk to my mom's place from South Common Mall.
  My thoughts went to Spinoza: a philosopher who I had admired as a 20 year old, and who I had studied at university. Spinoza was one of the first philosophers to attempt to view reason and emotion as modes of a divine being that permeates everything. "Conatus" is Spinoza's term for the organizing principle of all things, and how beings have their own individual natures (perhaps fate or destiny might be apt words) which they maintain in the midst of other natures. To give an example,  a rock, plant and bird are all "modes" of the same being, but each has its own form of expression. Rocks don't grow in the way that plants do, and plants don't communicate or move as animals do, yet according to Spinoza, their fundamental belonging to a divine being is the same. The difference is that each has its own distinct piece in the unfolding conversation of life, occupying a role that is mitigated by its organizing principles.
   For humans, "conatus" is more about how our characters unfold in the midst of our fates. For example, on a day to day basis, I am buffeted by a variety of different urges and passions. Spinoza, however, reminds us that "passions" come from the same root as "passive", in the sense that they are ideas that act upon us; we are not the active authors of our passions. Only when I can integrate those passions into my character can balance be achieved. This requires a life of knowing oneself --not just what a person likes or dislikes but also where a person fits in the world, what strengths they can contribute to the society, and how they can give to the others in their lives.
    I am not sure what it means that a 44 year old is walking the same steps that his 20 year old self did many years ago. Is it the same or is it different? From my current view, the things that the 20 year old had at the time (including experiences, reading, thoughts, relations) were simply not quite enough to help him mature into a professional life or independence, at least not at that age. And even at this age, I can acknowledge that I don't know enough, and have not developed myself enough; there is still a long way to go. However, I can also see that he had the capacity to wonder about life, and this always keeps a person going at any age. If I ever find myself without that sense of wonderment, is there any more reason to live? I guess that's another question to add to one's daily walks.