Write Again … Mysteries of life
For those of us so fortunate, so blessed, to have been on this journey for quite a spell, wondering why we’ve been allowed this longevity, and so many others haven’t, is only natural.
Is this by design of some higher power? Or is it caprice? Now, we could discuss and debate this from scientific or religious perspectives, as have just about all who have come before us probably have done. Most would come to an answer based on their own background as Albert Camus wrote: “We do not see things as they are. We see things as we are.”
About the only way I manage to grapple with such mind-bending mysteries is to acknowledge that the only one who knows such things is our Maker. Well, and maybe one county commissioner, who seems to know just about everything there is to know. It must be a burden to be smarter than everyone else. I wouldn’t know, for I’ve never had to worry about that.
As the renowned modern-day philosopher, Skybo, says, “A mind is a terrible thing.” It certainly can be.
But I digress. Getting back to my original question about one of the mysteries of life: By design, or caprice?
Maybe we should really focus on the “how long?” We can affect the former, but, for most of us, we’ll leave the latter to another power source outside ourselves.
It would perhaps be logical to assume that many, perhaps most, of us have at the very least thought a bit more about our own mortality — and about that of family members and friends — during this time of the “Big V.” A palpable angst, for want of a better word, seems to hover about. The news media keep it before us, rightly so, but one can become supersaturated with concern. Just human nature, I suppose.
Minimizing human contact doesn’t come easily to most of us. Those who are very “social” beings.
All of this rambling, mental peregrinations, probably hasn’t offered one thing you haven’t thought about, or pondered.
So. What, if anything, might I offer, suggest, in closing, that might be of any value?
Not being erudite, nor having anything even close to exceptional intellect, all I might add, however unoriginal, is to simply love, or continue to love. People. Animals. Nature. If you are conventionally religious, your maker.
In that vein, please let me leave you with an excerpt from a fairly recent obituary in our paper.
“Pure love has no conditions. It does not restrain itself or hold back. Love is a continuous flow without limits and has a sole intention of bringing people together in a time called forever.”
A time called forever.
What a beautiful, hopeful, didactic perspective.
To that we might truly say, “Amen.”