29 August 2005
Humanity is a strange thing. It's always there, instantly inherent and implicit, yet so often unnoticed.Last weekend, I felt human again.
These days life is filled with much stupidity - evils that are "necessary"* in the malaise that is modernity. I'm talking about the busyness that goes with business, the human race that isn't so much a group of people as an extreme, competitive sport.
Get this, be that, buy this, try that.
Lately I've been faced with those very real, honest, Ecclesiastes moments, where I wonder what my whole existence is for. I could have the best career I wanted, I could have the best relationships with family and friends, live in the best place on earth. Would it matter? Would it make a difference at all?
I'm self-aware and self-centred, I'm wondering and wandering without end, asking myself what I am supposed to do with the remaining 50 odd years on this planet.
What is this state called humanity intended for?
Last weekend, I felt human again.
How? Why? Because in the midst of the fakeness I witnessed something real. Something so real, and potent, and so divinely "normal"* that if I hadn't stopped to reflect, it may have gone undetected. I saw a man and his kin celebrate life and God, and in the process reflect someone bigger.
So this one goes out to the maker of the cold, and the flame, and the stars, and birthdays, and people. I see in us a marred portrait of something so inexplicably and obscenely real. And the reality is you...
* "Laser", "Death Star", "Alan Parsons Project"
