Older people sometimes wonder if they have achieved anything of importance. When I get into deep wondering about my worth, I tend to push back using flippancy. In many societies, the traditional view is that males are clearly fine creatures and I am a male. In some religions, one traditional view is to wonder why a bipedal ape has ridden to the top of the animal kingdom. "What is man that thou art mindful of him?" (Psalm 8:4)
One of the many difficulties in being a male human is that the joy of striving keeps ambushing, jumping out and shooting the lust for excitement, speed, victory and such into one's heart and soul. Dr. A and Dr. K are just going to advise this itchy guy to be cool. Just hold on and wait until your wife returns from traveling, they'll say. But I am thinking of the guy, and increasingly the gal, who pulls up at a red light and suddenly starts wondering if they are living properly. It can happen at any moment to currently living humans in any culture, at any hour, without notice or warning.
So, take notice, I tell myself. I am a male and am a child of God, made, mind you, in the image of God. I can get all puffed up with ego and pride but then I think of that ancient book Ecclesiastes which asserts "Vanity, vanity, all is vanity." He wasn't referring to pride in my looks, but to futility, uselessness, pointlessness.
I think of that piercing poem by Shelley "Ozymandias", which depicts the ego and boasts of a long dead and now-forgotten and irrelevant king.
So, which is it: am I great or am I pointless and just a dust bunny? It's both. I am great. Nobody else is writing this helpful blog. I am a US taxpayer, a cook, a husband and a friend. But I am deteriorating and aging. There are many people alive today that don't know about my existence and good qualities and are perfectly happy that way. It's a story that has played before: born, lived, loved, laughed, aged and finally stopped. Nice story, glad to be in it.
