The world goes on, regardless of our involvement. The path it takes in its "going", well, we do have something of a say in that.
It would appear that over the past couple of posts, I've digressed, gotten off the beaten path, if you will, taken an unexpected turn (and you'll note that all of these phrases are, yes, metaphors), but that's not the case at all. Truth be told, I've simply continued with what I was saying, but tried to relate it to the real world in which (at least) most of us believe we find ourselves. If we only knew. Yes, if we only really knew where and when we are.
Let's face it, we haven't quite got this consciousness thing figured out yet. The materialists can't explain it, the metaphysicians are probably too enthusiastic about it. We only know what we know and that is what we experience, but somehow we suspect that that's not all there is. Even the most dyed-in-the-wool materialist knows that there is more in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in any of our philosophies (with apologies to William). Yes, my dear friend (or occasional reader, I can't know ... though it doesn't make a difference), we are a strange species. And that, more or less, is what the past few posts (and probably most of my posts) have been about.
We have trouble -- and by "we", I mean all of us -- with uncertainty. Our lives are full of it, but we wish they weren't. We'd love to know what is what, to not have to worry about every little thing, and to be able to get up every morning and face the day with renewed vigor and confidence. Of course, we're in a very privileged and exalted position: we don't have to worry about where our next drink of clean water comes from or our next bowl of rice, or if the radicals are going to show up with blood-lust and machetes, or if we have to sign up for Obamacare or not. No, we don't handle uncertainty very well, but just when was the world certain at all.
There is something that unites us all. It doesn't matter if you're a dirt farmer in deepest Africa, or a day laborer in China, or an executive on Wall Street, or a production worker at the Daimler plant in Stuttgart. What we all have in common is that we have absolutely, positively, definitely no idea why we're here.
Oh, we're here all right. We get up every morning. We go about our business. We do what we have to do, whatever it may be, but in the end, at night, before we go to sleep, we all have that moment when we ask ourselves, just what the hell am I doing here? Where did I come from? Why am I? The true believer asks him/herself this, as does the atheist, the agnostic, the materialist, and the forlorn and forgotten.
Oh, you can -- from your privileged position of so-called knowledge in alleged developed Western society -- think that you know. But, late at night, when the lights are out, when all is dark and quiet, you know that you simply have no idea why you are.
The wonder, the mystery, of life is that we just don't know. The comfort, the surety, of life is that we suspect (rightfully) that no other human being on this planet knows either. We're simply all in it together.
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