Striving

At this point in history, one can see the broad inevitable pattern of evolutionary biology being played out. It illuminates the vanity of those, like me, who imagine that their striving is part of a great scheme. The striving itself, with its minuscule movement which feels like great strides to our inconsequential selves, is really no more than the flagellations of tiny protozoans being swept along in a huge rushing river. Yet, the striving, and the progress we feel, is the joy proffered by life. I helped thousands of people in my role as a chiropractor; I raised two amazing, beautiful children with love and joy. Yet, easing pain and bringing well-being and safety to other humans, all ephemeral and insignificant specks like me: what is that in the infinity of energy and swirling matter that surrounds us?

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