I’m driving and driving and all I hear is “Are we there yet?”
What we are doing, in our little boxes of magic, is grazing the planet and hoping for a gratuitous tomorrow. Looking to avoid all displeasure while embracing the divine, we imagine it all matters though we haven’t a clue as to why.
However, the more gracious of us manage to find a way and teach it to others
There are games within games and competitions and showcases for opportunities to define ourselves in terms of success and failure. We parade these, our judgments upon ourselves, to unite or to separate as if we could just choose whether we are this or that.
As if a Republican or a Democrat could be much different from 25 trillion miles away, which is where the next closest solar system is located, give or take a trip or two to the moon.
As a teacher, I have crowned myself an enlightened one. I have named all the stars as well as all of God’s creatures. I have peeked over God’s shoulder and have become acquainted with the masterpiece he’s working on, an epic with a cast of billions, all of us with leading parts.
I can conjure music, swim with the dolphins, fly with the birds, play ball, sing lullabies to my babies and watch Humphrey Bogart retrospectives in the comfort of my own sizeable but cozy home. And I can show others how to do it.
Of course, I may not care for ball, preferring ballet instead. Maybe Bogie isn’t my cup of tea, but Adam Sandler is. Or perhaps I have no interest in Alpha Centauri, but have the closest Native American casino timed down to the minute. Sherlock Holmes cared little that the planets revolved around the sun because it meant nothing in a murder mystery. Some people think we’re here to send others into space while others think we’re here to send people to jail.