My mom and I have been talking a lot about how she's upset her new stove has a chip. She's upset it gets dirty every time we cook. She's upset the dishes never stay clean. She's upset the spines of books never stay pristine. She's upset, she's upset, she's upset…
She wants a kitchen that never gets dirty. She wants furniture that never gets worn. She wants books that haven't been read. She wants a house that hasn't been lived in. She wants to 'live' a sterile 'pseudo life.'
We collect pictures of sunsets, of vacations, of friends, of pets. We capture snippets of conversations in our minds. We desperately want to save every moment. We don't want to lose our pasts, our selves to time.
We have such an obsession with eternity. We want everything to stay the same. We let ancient documents rule our futures. We have such a fear of change.
But life is change. Ancient stairways worn by millennia of steps. Canyons worn by the rivers below. Oceans and islands and continents and mountains and deserts and plains.
Not even death is stasis: the worms will eat our bones and 'we' will be 'reborn' as flowers or vegetables and eat and be eaten and so on and so on…. It's an endless cycle.
We simply happen to exist. The time is now and we are here and that is all there is to it.
