Today's one of those days. It's sunny, markedly temperate outside. I've been sitting on my porch a lot this morning, surfing the interwebs, interspersed with taking care of stuff around the house. I've spent a little time watching the planes in the air, leaving white trails in their wake as they ship dozens of us from one place to the next.
We are small. In the grand scheme of things, we are insignificant, blips in the timeline. For the vast majority of us, the things we say, the things we write, the things we do won't really make much of a difference. And there is a peace in knowing this, a release from anxiety to be found.
Much like my lack of belief in an afterlife, it offers a certain perspective, a sense of the present. I've wrestled for years coming to terms with the fact that I'm just going to have to take life as it comes, that there are so many variables and options ahead that striving and drive won't get me to where I want to be. And I don't recommend it for most of you. It's a low-key life without much success. But it works for me.
But for now, at least, I can take the time to enjoy this life. And I don't mean to say I want to live life partying every night and plowing through each day with reckless abandon. But I like to think that I take joy in the things I do. A little laundry, minding the recycling. Making cat food, taking out the garbage. Sometimes these things just feel like tasks; I forget the simple satisfaction of fitting all the dishes in the dishwasher or wiping the counter clean.
It's okay to log those hours getting stuff done. It's okay to fuck up now and again. Because we are small, and it's not that big a deal as long as we're not just being dicks for no good reason.
Do what you can. Don't forget to enjoy yourself as you go. Because if you worry so much that it sucks the happiness out of your life, what's the point of living?
That's where I'm at today, anyway.
Cheers.
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