Friday, February 28, 2014

Life

You are born somewhere and you will die somewhere.
In life we wander about and give each other good advice,
like hens. Cluck cluck, cluck cluck.

We're so sensible.
We write books and articles,
we organize workshops and conferences;
we comfort each other and tell each other what to do.
Cluck cluck.

An oak tree grows where it grows.
It may have been planted there by a jay or a little girl,
but there is no ultimate reason why it stands where it stands.
There is no director who has placed it there.
There is no plan behind its existence
other than the growing instructions
that was written in the chromosomes in the acorn
three or four hundred years ago.

Of course there is no ultimate meaning with your life.
You just happen to be where you happen to be.
Right now, you happen to be here.
Cluck cluck.
The seed that gave rise to the universe contained no instructions
no genetic code, no blueprint.
Everything has just become as it has become.

All living things originate from one single cell
that happened to be formed, by chance, more than three billion years ago.
Cats and dogs, birds and bees, flowers and trees...

There are majestic oak trees, and tragic old oak trees
and there are newly planted oak trees from good German nurseries
with good genes and good crown structure
almost like young elite soldiers lined up in a row
outside well-planned residential areas.

The universe is not like a well-planned residential area.
Nothing is predetermined.
Everything just gets as it gets.