Chris Floyd has a haunting post up about the emptiness of power and the transcendence of daily life. Most of my favorite books are immersed in daily, family activities. It's immensely satisfying to take this life we are given and see its passage as meaningful in itself. The physical acts of tending, making, creating. The sights and sounds and smells and pleasures of making a home. I'm a housewife for a reason, because cultivating my own garden is the best thing I can do when my family is young. The pressures and fears of one income are beyond intense, but creating a home, family and life is worth it.
So many people think we need to worship a god to feel worthwhile and good. That living a human life by human rules is immoral and wrong. Life is a blessing, no matter where it came from or where it leads to, if anywhere. The world is filled with so much beauty and terror, wonder and pain, that adding a layer of gods and goddesses to it seems totally unnecessary, and a refutation of our potential.
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2 comments:
susan, thanks for that link. Incredible post, indeed. I'm going to try to find a good translation of zhivago, now.
aimai
You're welcome.
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