Whatever we are thinking, it’s been thought before.
Whatever we are asking, it’s been asked before.
When all is said and done, all will not be said and only one person will be done. Purpose only matters if you have one. Destination only matters if you are going somewhere. Identity only matters if you want to be seen.
Life, projects, ideas, dreams – having accident, purpose, good luck and bad luck, chance, spark and drive, commitment to excellence, belief in purpose – but, seriously, what are your chances?
Whatever we want to do, been done before, or being invented by a better smarter younger person in lab or classroom somewhere else, by someone else. Starting or finishing something is fruitless. Nobody listens, nobody cares, nobody remembers – so why? Why do anything, care about anything, push for anything or committed to anything?
Doggedly, relentlessly, irreversibly committed to path? Destination remains important, apparently, but clawing or racing along becomes preoccupation. Forks appear in that road, potholes, gofer holes and rabbit holes at every turn enticing us off course, of course – demonically conspiring to take our focus away from our path, from our destination.
Soon, remembering which path we are one becomes a struggle.
Who cares, once we’ve been so completely distracted, what the original destination might have been?
Life will end. Neither paths or destinations will matter much or be remembered.
Life is like chess, a series of complex moves. Sometimes we protect our queen. Or lose her. Playing chess for a while without a queen becomes normalized, like someone living without a limb, seeing without an eye or hearing without ears …
written / published from Calgary, AB
morning walk: 2C/36F, overcast skies brought a morning shower and a breeze pushed it away leaving fresh air, blue sky and muck for Gusta’s paws to find. Invigoration!
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