One rice crispy later, I sat at work staring at the computer wondering if this is all there is to life?
Wake up, breakfast, get ready, commute, work, lunch, work, coffee break, work, commute, dinner, tv, sleep.
Do it all over again.
My job is not changing the world. It’s not saving humanity from disease, poverty, age, and future extinction. I’m not building a spaceship or developing gravity theory that would propel human out into space when this earth dies out. (Thank you Murphy for setting expectations for us.)
I’m not helping people find love or home or world peace.
In fact, I fear most of us don’t. Yet we keep doing it—this monotonous rhythm. Why?
Why do we keep staring at the wall, banging our chisel to carve out an abominable rock until we die and someone replaces us when knowing there’s possibility no end to the rock and/or nothing beyond the rock?
There’s no real answer or if there is, I just haven’t grasped it yet.