My wife and I are trying to work out the logistics of having just one car. It wearies me to think of extra accommodations to do a job that already consumes more than its fair share of my life. The complications are threatening to overwhelm me. I find myself locked in a prison of mundane details while important details drop out here and there randomly.
Winter is closing in on me, all the while, dark, cold, and damp, discomfort and melancholy. I refuse to fight it this year. I will let its darkness wash over me and leave me, like a rock in the surf, a little more polished but mostly unchanged.
People tend to operate in the world as if they are the protagonists of their universe. It mostly makes sense to live that way. In reality, the universe has no protagonists. It is random and neutral, and the whole of human endeavor absurd. But to operate as though the universe is neutral is nearly impossible and ultimately does not matter as courage itself is a construct of cultural imagination. It may be more humane to yourself and others to seek refuge in the illusion of heroic action. There is nothing wrong with alleviating suffering either yours or someone else’s. In fact it is the only cause that is worthwhile and valuable. Keeping living things from suffering is the only action that actually makes sense. At least that’s how I am thinking today. I told you winter was getting to me.