I don’t see many sunrises. I have been a night owl my entire life. I would say I prefer the sunset aesthetic, but that is a bias based on my sheer distaste for early rising. Being witness to life’s potential shooing away the darkness, I understand the appeal. The colors slowly coming alive makes for the proverbial hopeful glimmer. Even if all it means is one more day of grinding toward an amorphous future.
It is difficult to not feel insignificant, staring out at the city expanse as the world comes alive. If I were to die, I am not sure many would notice. It would certainly impact my kids. From there the ripples would lap against friends and family, possibly coworkers, but from there it would fade to shrugs for those who knew me once upon a time.
Any footprints I leave behind will be gone by the next rainfall.
I am okay with it. It is the fate of billions of souls before me. It will be the fate of billions more to come. I don’t need to be memorialized in stone. I don’t need to have my exploits taught in schools. I don’t need to become a legend people debate and try to tear down when the culture shifts.
What I need is to figure out what to do next. I can’t simply wile my life away, reacting to whatever demands the universe pours upon me. At some point I have to dictate my desires onto this indifferent, apathetic, hologram of a reality I am stuck in, and ride at least a modicum of pleasurable into the next.
And I say there is a next without really knowing if there is or not.
There must be right?
Regardless of the nature of humankind and our definition and understanding of what is “real”, there seems to be a process in play. Humans imagine, experiment, and pull imaginary things into the physical world. We think up a lightbulb and create light. We dream of a faster horse and rocket ourselves into the heavens. Why would imagining an afterlife be any different?
I could be wrong. Once my flame goes out there could be nothingness. There is no escape from whatever it is so I don’t see the point in worrying about it. I suppose that is my issue with religion. There is a lot of concern with what happens after you die. My concern is with what is happening while I am alive.
My morals and ethics are not dictated by some threat of punishment if I don’t behave. I am not wearing a funny hat, gesticulating, or chanting some mantra in the hopes that this will put me in the good graces of the what if. Granted I have lived some times where I reached out for something, but for most of my life, the idea of how to live has always seemed pretty simple.
If I make someone feel bad, I end up feeling bad.
If I put myself in someone else’s shoes, it helps me to understand what it is that might make them feel bad.
Certainly there are caveats. I don’t always know what will trigger someone to feel bad. Sometimes people are just looking to feel bad and if I am not actively engaging that negative energy with purpose, I am indifferent to how it is perceived.
Be mad.
That’s not on me.
I suppose that’s the rub. Humans have a pretty good compass when it comes to recognizing good and evil. Our antenna, when healthy, is fairly accurate when it comes to positive and negative vibes. No document or philosophy is needed to program us. We can argue over the details, over the how and why, but in the end it is hard to deny the energy when it slaps you in the face.
We have tried to develop some universals. Raping babies is evil. Puppies are good. I am not sure humans need that sort of stuff outlined in an ancient scroll. I don’t think we need to build a monument and have weekly meetings to discuss the merits. Some things are self evident, even if there are baby raping, puppy hating outliers.
I suppose I get why some people dive into the nitty gritty of it. There are those out there who can name every Pokémon and their subsequent attributes or whatever. Certainly, the exercise of trying to work out the nature of good and evil strokes a few nerd bones. What I can’t square is how entire wars are fought despite the edict of killing being a sin.
Evil in the name of good?
Still seems evil to me.
I don’t know. I am more comfortable with the laws of nature than the interpretations of humans. If I jump from a height I will fall. If I fall far enough I will break. Whether or not my deeds adhere to the edicts of thought, regardless if my petitions to the unknown are heard, I still fall. I still break. That seems fair to me.
I suppose some of this stems from a half century of appeals falling on a deaf universe. Some may say that my lack of genuflection to their version of a higher power is why I have not been bestowed a bounty. Others may throw out the same old tired placations of things happening for a reason, the plan, the will, the - you only get what you need, not what you ask for.
Others will sell me their formula for success. Breathe this way, sit that way. Recite this rhyme, write this down. Wear this amulet, face this direction. Visit this place, revere this person. Burn this candle, rub this stone. Do a little dance, sing a little song, and don’t forget to give us your money.
Believe me. If I thought any of that would keep my kids safe or push those lottery balls in my favor I would be one hardcore breathing ass, sitting ass, rhyme spitting, gratitude writing, amulet sporting, dance move having, place visiting, candle burning, rock polishing, song singing, snake kissing whatever you need motherfucker out there. Instead the answer is always the same.
All part of the plan.
Yet I remain insignificant. I could beg this sun to stop rising. I could plead for one more moment of dawning. I could’ve spent a lifetime engaged with all the ceremonies and beliefs available, but the sun will still rise. Another day will pass, and another night will fall. That’s the plan, and it will happen with or without me.
Meanwhile I don’t feel like I am asking for much in relation to this abundant universe. Sure I would like a brazillion dollars and a harem of nymphomaniac supermodels. I would love to magically be young again and be invincible to harm. Of course I want to be lauded by millions and considered the best to ever do it.
Whatever that is.
I have an ego like everyone else, but in reality I just need the irritations to slow the fuck down. The constant struggle to meet the financial demands of being alive and existing in a way that doesn’t keep me pinned under the thumbs of landlords, quarterly profits, special interests, and regulatory agencies. Having to endure instead of thrive is getting fucking old.
Of course I wouldn’t mind finding someone to share the rest of my days with. Someone who doesn’t care that I am not the richest, most handsome, most successful most righteous man in all of digital swipey land. The nymphomania is totally optional.
I wouldn’t mind if my kids stayed safe and found less struggle than I overcame.
I also wouldn’t mind avoiding dementia.
This doesn’t seem like an unreasonable list. Especially if any of those stories about miracles are true.
I feel like I am doing my part. I am out here being kind as shit. I am staying in my lane. I am remaining insignificant. I am not making the news for dastardly deeds. I am not influencing others out of their money or sanity. I am not promoting evil or supporting those who do. I know doing the right thing is its own reward, but c’mon universe.
Help a brother out.
It won’t be long before this sunrise becomes full on day. I am already squinting. I really have no idea what to do next. Forget the next five years, I don’t even know what to do in the next five minutes. My path through the woods has remained untrod by any beast. It is replete with thorny snagables and sloshy footing.
I can expect a rash.
I will probably still find moments when I plead my case to the nothingness. I have no expectation my cries will be heard. It is merely a placebo at this point. Something I tell myself has merit. Some glimmer of hope I cling to despite decades of being shown nothing but indifference to my plight.
Mysterious ways and all.
Everything I have I worked for, so at some point I will peel my flabby gluteus off this rock and start my day. I know not what’s in store aside from a trip to the toilet and some weird struggle to decide what to eat at some point.
Such is life.