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Yesterday was a busy and productive day. I didn't get home until 9pm. I had to work late for our employee equipment giveaway. By the time I got home, I vegged with the laptop, reading some threads on the Ten Commandments in Courthouse debate on a non-gaming part of the Hero Games discussion boards.
I'm continually fascinated by other people's viewpoints.
After watching a friend bring up the issue of leading a meaningful existence, I am compelled to ponder. My mother once said she felt her life was meaningless. This was after she had raised her children to be so independent, we didn't need her to mother us anymore. I found myself frustrated by this sentiment. I mean, they are her feelings, and those are valid, but it's my opinion that meaning doesn't always find you; you find the meaning. If you have goals that you value and cherish, your life has meaning. If you don't have any objectives but to feed and clothe yourself, and you feel your life is pointless, it's probably because you missed the point.
Rather than contemplate that your life is going nowhere, or at least nowhere you want to be, think about where you want to go next.
Don't get me wrong. History is not a bad thing. But one should dwell on it long enough to understand how one got in the Whole Year Inn (or the Hole you're in--this is a Leaving Las Vegas reference for those who didn't see the movie), learn those lessons, and then take the steps necessary to create a new and better past that has yet to happen.
Beyond that, I wonder what the cavepeople dwelled on thousands of years ago? Their main considerations were keeping warm, not being hunted and eaten, and finding food for their family. Who had time to be depressed? Rather, if you were a depressive caveman, you might have been more prone to be some beast's lunch because you weren't paying attention and were moping about the land.
Then again, they might have been pretty frustrated. They hadn't learned to play musical instruments, though some basic percussion might have been discovered. They really couldn't write. And cave-wallspace for drawing was probably at a premium.
And the dinosaurs. What was their angst like?
T-Rex: Dear diary, all I do is hunt and eat. Hunt and eat. I'm so dull. My arms are useless. Who could ever love me with arms like these? What's the point? Why can't I be an herbivore? I'm hungry.
Anyway, 'tis time for work.
Have a good day, all!
I'm continually fascinated by other people's viewpoints.
After watching a friend bring up the issue of leading a meaningful existence, I am compelled to ponder. My mother once said she felt her life was meaningless. This was after she had raised her children to be so independent, we didn't need her to mother us anymore. I found myself frustrated by this sentiment. I mean, they are her feelings, and those are valid, but it's my opinion that meaning doesn't always find you; you find the meaning. If you have goals that you value and cherish, your life has meaning. If you don't have any objectives but to feed and clothe yourself, and you feel your life is pointless, it's probably because you missed the point.
Rather than contemplate that your life is going nowhere, or at least nowhere you want to be, think about where you want to go next.
Don't get me wrong. History is not a bad thing. But one should dwell on it long enough to understand how one got in the Whole Year Inn (or the Hole you're in--this is a Leaving Las Vegas reference for those who didn't see the movie), learn those lessons, and then take the steps necessary to create a new and better past that has yet to happen.
Beyond that, I wonder what the cavepeople dwelled on thousands of years ago? Their main considerations were keeping warm, not being hunted and eaten, and finding food for their family. Who had time to be depressed? Rather, if you were a depressive caveman, you might have been more prone to be some beast's lunch because you weren't paying attention and were moping about the land.
Then again, they might have been pretty frustrated. They hadn't learned to play musical instruments, though some basic percussion might have been discovered. They really couldn't write. And cave-wallspace for drawing was probably at a premium.
And the dinosaurs. What was their angst like?
T-Rex: Dear diary, all I do is hunt and eat. Hunt and eat. I'm so dull. My arms are useless. Who could ever love me with arms like these? What's the point? Why can't I be an herbivore? I'm hungry.
Anyway, 'tis time for work.
Have a good day, all!
