It’s really true that every day is a day of new birth. Each day is a renewal. Cells replace themselves. You may have a new thought or two. You do something differently. No human being today is the same as yesterday, and tomorrow you will grow more. You have no say about this, you understand.
No need to think of this as aging. Physical changes are more like the changing of the guard. Physical changes are an appearance, yet, of course, Earth Life itself is altogether illusory.
What an advertisement Life on Earth is. Life on Earth goes all out. You give it your everything, and all the while, it is a group fantasy, somewhat like the game of Telephone where everyone speaks hurriedly and no one hears quite the same words, and, so, conversation is garbled. It is a fact that everyone hears his own version of life.
Life is certainly an interesting matter. Life is like a run-on sentence. There is no end to Life, no matter what transition you are going through. Life is the topic that happens to be before you in all kinds of amazing colors. Indeed, Life is a piece of work. What storytelling you live amidst! Life is a Master of Tales. Life is a run-on story, a story that goes over hill and dale, reaches high in the sky, and also goes under arches and underground as well. There is nothing on TV or in the best novel that beats the Circuitry of Life. Fiction does do a good job, mind you. Fiction gets your mind off your Life that sometimes seem to you to not be quite good enough.
Wherein hangs the tale?
Life is an ongoing story. You may feel at a loss, yet you are on a precise page, and tomorrow, you will be on another page. You will be on the next page, and sometimes you seem to wake up in the middle of a new chapter.
What you do know is that Life will surprise you. It will surprise you with treasures, and the same Life will also give you jolts.
Life may skip along fast. You simply are on the page you are on. It is as if you ride an escalator, and it seems that there is no getting off. Once you are in Life, there you are, and Life takes you back and forth and around the bend.
Sometimes you don’t have a clue as to where you are. You are not even sure that you are. Sometimes you feel invisible and unknown to yourself. Or did you make yourself up all together? Or were you picked up and set down somewhere in a strange world beyond your ken?
What is the deal anyway?
Perhaps you were assigned somewhere. Perhaps a clerical error was made. You cannot figure out for the life of you how you got here or what you are supposed to be doing here, or, if you are really here.
You are in a dream that some day you will wake up from.
Of course, despite your caterwauling, you do love a mystery. You think you might turn in your Life for another’s, yet, if you could, you might find you are still looking at the Candy Store of Life through a window. You are Alice looking through the looking glass, and all you do is look at Life and never quite become at home in it.
You are in transit. You are not allowed to stay still, so it seems. You are ever-still and ever-moving all in the same ballgame.
What an utterly perplexing thing is Life, as you are caught up in it and also as you are so far away from it. You’re not sure that Life is even a journey. Maybe you are just reading a journal. Maybe you are just assuming someone else’s identity anyway, and you don’t even know whose. All you can think is that Life somehow isn’t your own. Perhaps borrowed for a while. Nonrefundable this time around.