Sunday, November 6, 2011

Saturday Night Philosophizing

or Things I Think While Rosie's Taking a Pee

Photo from here

I like to stand outside on a clear night and look up at the stars.  I consider their immense distance, and ponder the enormity of space.  It's so vast and, in a way, so simple.  There is existence and nonexistence.  Ok, there is energy and heat--extreme, unimaginable heat that would obliterate us in a nanosecond.  And there is cold--absence of energy, a stillness beyond death.

And yet here I stand, in spite of that cruel simplicity, feet planted firmly on this spinning globe.  Standing upright on my grassy lawn. Why should there be grass?  In all the vast reaches and vagaries of the universe, why should grass have come to be?  And not just grass, but Bermuda grass, fescue, rye and crabgrass; such a variety of something that didn't really need to exist in the first place.

Then my eye falls on the dog as she wanders back up the driveway.  How amazing it is that two such improbable creatures should exist, should have found each other and should have created this strong intangible bond.  We call it love, and value it above all else.  And it has nothing to do with the temperature of space, or the distance between stars.

Oh, how we complicate our lives.  What difference does it make, faced with the infinity of the universe, if our lawns are cut or our improbable woven-fiber-spun-from-cotton-seed-fluff shirts are sufficiently ironed?  I think, I should just relax and enjoy the fact of being.  Rosie is here, I am breathing, there is a Miss Chef organism on this planet who will come home here tonight and make our family complete.  What else could I expect from this massive, incomprehensible universe?

As I turn back toward the light and warmth of the house I have to wonder--is it all a miracle?  God's great  plan?  An elaborate accident of physics and chemistry?

And I decide, why not all three?  God's great plan works through physics and chemistry, and the complexity, unlikely simplicity and sheer beauty of it all is a miracle to me.


  1. This is my all-time favorite post.

  2. deep! You should really enter this post into a writing contest or to a magazine.

    And so true....we humans make everything more complicated in our lives....An important lesson we should all learn: Simplify

    Terrific post!


  3. I sometimes have one of those moments you describe, when things seem so clear and simple and easy, when it all comes down to the love that exists in the world and nothing else really matters. I wish those moments lasted longer, but I'm just glad they happen. Your words are poetry and I loved reading them.

  4. Wow. I feel petty for thinking "I hope he doesn't pee on his leg" when my dog is peeing.

  5. It's not you Garrett; it's your dog.

  6. And to think that all I think about is how soon will he be done so I can get back inside!
    Nice post. Nice provoking of thoughts!

  7. Why not all you are officially a philosopher...I agree wholeheartedly...smlies

  8. Love it! What a great post. I'm usually thinking "I hope he doesn't step in that poop over there so that i don't have to clean his feet before he comes in the house" or "are there any coyotes out here?"

    But I have those sort of thoughts while I'm spinning yarn, because it's sort of rhythmic and soothing, and my mind can freewheel along...

  9. And now you are officially a philosopher.

    This is a beautiful post with lots to think about. I say all three are absolutely a-okay!

    xo jj

  10. What often stops me in my tracks is looking up at the moon and thinking - 'Wow! Every single person on earth can see that same moon!' It somehow brings the world together. Or something.

  11. Last night I let the dogs out before bed. The entire house was sleeping except me and the dogs, and I thought of you and this post. As both dogs took their turns, I looked up into the sky and was surprised to see a bright, silvery, perfectly round halo around the moon. It was really beautiful and like a sweet goodnight gift.

    Thanks for the inspiration,

  12. Beautiful. I share your thoughts and admire your words. Often as I'm out throwing hay in the moonlight I wonder...


Thanks for dropping by--please share your thoughts!

"Every time we get comment mail, Rosie wags her tail!" (Seriously, you should see that puffy thing go.)