The Great and the Trivial

Those who sing of God, fate, and death are great.

To struggle through this brief life without being hurt at all — that is what it is to be human.

To define oneself as noble and great, then pray never to be wounded, never to lose, never to go hungry, never to be cold — that is what it is to be human.

To pursue the tearing and shredding of muscle until the body grows immense, yet to find the tearing and shredding of the heart — the expanding of the spirit — something worse than death — that, too, is what it is to be human.

And that is me.

It is not easy to find someone with whom I can speak of God, providence, and life.

To see what cannot be seen, to feel what lies beyond this world, to transcend time and space — there are few with whom I can speak of such things.

To see how the world moves and what changes are coming, or to calculate immediate gain and loss — which is more urgent.

Who can say what is right or wrong.

When it comes down to it, we are all the same.

Whether one sees God or not.

Earning a little more, then departing a little more at ease.

Perhaps that is all there is — for me, for you, in the end.

It is so trivial it nearly brings me to tears.