A Day in the Life

Sure, we all know it

The superficiality of the world we live in is a common topic among writers. It's no secret that we are submerged in a vat of tastes, fashion, music, tv, food, and desires cleverly designed to distract and appease the masses while filling the coffers of the privileged few. We all know this, right? And to a certain extent, we can accept this for what it is and swim around the vat for a bit without feeling too bad about it. After all, it doesn't necessarily hurt us, and a lot of it tastes good. No?

But every once in a while, each of us has one of those poignant moments where we ponder our lot in life from that distant vantage point, see how we fit in the big picture, and then respond by repudiating the fake and proving that we care about what's important. I can't speak for everyone, but for me, thus begins the cycle, followed by the subsequent donning of the blinders, the inevitable return to tunnel vision, and the contented doggy-paddling around the vat. Repeat.

This week a young man I knew committed suicide. He wasn't a friend, but I'd played ball with him a few times. Meanwhile, I've been getting swallowed in work, my ministry and study have suffered, my back hurts, and I'm tired. I've been spending too much time on the keyboard, as worthy as that hobby is. I'm not complaining, just observing how easily a preoccupation with the inconsequential has overtaken my routine. While I stayed up late into the night programming away to meet a deadline, a young man unraveled, finally dragged to the ground by the manic depression he'd battled for years. Of course there is nothing I could have done, but the wake up call is still resounding.

Sure, I am tired. Hey, I should be. With so much important stuff to do, so many big issues to face, so many lives to care about, there just isn't enough time in the day. I love to comment about the grandiose prospect of eternity, but that's one luxury we don't have at the moment, at least not for what we need to do today.