SO MUCH LAUNDRY. ALL OF THE LAUNDRY. All of the time. That’s what it feels like anyway. A constant stream of dirty socks, jeans I swore I washed like, two days ago, and baby clothes. Endless baby clothes. Laundry is a constant in my life. Perhaps one of the few.
I’ve spent the last few days in a contemplative mood. This leaves me quiet around other people but often loud when I am alone. I am a verbal processor, I just normally prefer to process by myself instead of with others. And yet somehow I scored an ENFJ. Maybe I am just one big jumble to everyone.
I keep thinking about how life is unfair but also strangely ironic. Even the old complaint, “That’s not fair,” isn’t even worth mumbling anymore because what’s the point? No one will be able to explain the unfairness away. Our world is breaking and so are we. My life has always been full of strange parallels that never cross; many are my own experience but a good portion of them is the experience of others. Why does one couple get to have children when another doesn’t? Why does one person with a fairly fulfilled life of ripened years, children and grandchildren, get to beat a sickness while another woman who is younger than 30 does not win the battle? Why does one child receive more love and lavishing than another despite being in the same family? Why does one person have the sensitive, supportive spouse and another does not? Why did one person have the guts to follow their dreams early on and another person didn’t? If one person did one thing different would life be the same for her or him? Do we really want to answer these? Not really. We don’t really want to face the simple truth of the underlying brokenness of our world. It’s there but we try to avoid that. We would rather sit in imagination and the idea that we are wronged.
It’s almost as if life is one big Willy Wonka tour, and the series of tests we face aren’t test at all. They are just all the moments, choices, and events that make up life. A lot of different choices with a lot of different outcomes. It would lovely if we all had the cut and dry happy ending but isn’t that just a world of pure imagination? Because whenever something ends there is a note of sorrow attached to it, because it’s ending. Then a new page begins and life starts again. Whether we are ready for it to start again or not. Whether or not we are ready for what the ending looks like.
It does no good to consider what is fair or unfair. It only does good to see what is now and be thankful. To see what is because we truly will never know what could have been because we aren’t living it. We are just here, now. And the show will go own, after the curtain closes.