What’s really out there anyways
I remember waking up a few times in middle school and thinking “is there really all that’s out there? is this life? what is out there? what if this is all there ever will be? what exactly is my life about? Not exactly an existential crisis, just questioning whether life had meaning beyond what I could see. My life seemed too simple, too insignificant.
I think as I’ve gotten older, I have even fewer answers than I did back then. But what I do know is that’s much more complex than I can even imagine. Complexity doesn’t lend to purpose, but now when I think ‘is this really all that’s out there’, it’s enough.
Just walking around my subdivision with my dad yesterday we were thinking about how such terrible things happen around the world every day, and although we can rationally understand them, we can’t FEEL them.
Then I think more, and realize that if we could feel all of them, I’d probably be paralyzed with feeling by now.
