by Two of them anyway. I’m sure I posted them before, I use them a lot. This first one is from the TV show Angel:
Angel: Well, I guess I kinda worked it out. If there’s no great glorious end to all this, if nothing we do matters, then all that matters is what we do. ‘Cause that’s all there is. What we do. Now. Today. I fought for so long, for redemption, for a reward, and finally just to beat the other guy, but I never got it.
Kate: And now you do?
Angel: Not all of it. All I wanna do is help. I wanna help because, I don’t think people should suffer as they do. Because, if there’s no bigger meaning, then the smallest act of kindness is the greatest thing in the world.
This second one came from, of all things, a TV movie about alien abduction called Taken. I’d been dumped months before by the man I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with, and I was sitting on my couch in a stupor, realizing that there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. I just wasn’t getting over it. Then this TV movie came on and the main character said:
“We’re all standing on the edge of a cliff. All the time, every day. A cliff we’re all going over. Our choice isn’t about that. Our choice is about whether we want to go kicking and screaming or whether we might want to open our eyes and our hearts to what happens once we start to fall.”
I started to feel better in that moment. Embrace the fall.
Christmas trees I passed by on my way home yesterday.
I’m very sorry to learn that you had a breakup with someone you expected to live your life with. I suppose you have more or less come to terms with it. The guy must have been crazy.
You’re sounding very existential and Buddhist.
Rabbi David Cooper wrote a book called ‘God Is a Verb.” The idea is that divinity and our relationship with divinity is actually more of a process than a goal.
I remember Yeats had a poem:
What they undertook to do
They brought to pass;
All things hang like a drop of dew
Upon a blade of grass.
I think there is meaning. However, I believe the meaning more resembles that of a poem, painting or symphony than some rationally cognizable, ultimate truth.
Well, it was a few years ago now.
I love the Yeats poem!