Blip 👾👾👾

Humans have a complicated, often confused view of life in terms of time. This life anyway. Life is either too short or seems like it’s taking forever. Ninety years feels like a very long time indeed, yet we say we are only here for a mere blip in time. If someone dies over 90 they are thought to have had a long life, but of course there’s never enough time no matter how old our loved one’s are when they pass on. The word “blip” is terrifyingly short and insignificant sounding. It’s a one second sound effect. Hundreds of blips appear in one round of Pac-Man alone. If one of these blips isn’t heard no one will miss it. It comes and goes in the blink of an eye. When one day can feel like an eternity, an hour even, then how can it be that we view these current lifetimes as lightening fast blips in the grand scheme of things? Our ancestors had rich, full lives that are essentially meaningless to us. What seemed interminable to them during their own complicated life spans doesn’t resonate with us at all. We can’t even hear their blips for even that one second. How can it be that a whole life, ours included, full of ten thousand joys and ten thousand sorrows is reduced to an imperceptible split second in time? There are two ways to look at this: that everything we do matters since we have to squeeze the most out of this short gift of life, or that none of it matters at all since the whole darn thing will evaporate anyway. And where does this leave those of us who do feel it matters while we work on internalizing the brief, impermanent nature of life?

I know people who subscribe to both belief systems. What I have observed is that those who think the blipness ultimately means nothing are mostly just trudging through the predictable banality of every day. Days that are either resigned to sameness because “what’s the point?”, or days filled with irresponsible, destructive indulgences because “what’s the point?”. Almost everyone I speak to has children, and I’m always taken aback when a parent who has witnessed the miracle of childbirth can still think breath, life, and heartbeats will just wind up in the “sigh, whatever” pile. I promise this is not a judgement; I just find it interesting and depressing. It makes me sad too, in that it feels very cut off from wonder and awe. God doesn’t need a place here. I personally believe in God/Source, but I don’t think that’s necessary to feel part of something great and important. There is a wonderfully innovative synagogue in downtown New York called Lab Shul; they describe themselves as “God optional”. I love this for how inclusive it is. If someone has a hard time embracing God, they shouldn’t be alienated from tradition, ritual, and community. Connection is still very much alive and available. God isn’t provable in his intangibility, but take Nature. Nature invades all our senses at all times. One need not chant about the elements to prove they exist. Earth, water, fire, and air aren’t debatable. Nature truly is miraculous and magnificent. We know flowers have a short life span yet we water them and care for them while they’re here. We will bud, bloom, then die just like flowers, but are we not to be watered and cared for too? I’ve never heard of anyone call a flower a blip, or say that the life of a two hundred year old tree was a waste. Anything alive matters, especially people. Whether or not one believes in karma affecting the future, how sad is it to give so little love to the present? Is it possible to live an incredibly rich and joyful life, filled with curiosity and integrity, while knowing the blip is really just that? Yes, of course it’s possible and often necessary, to hold more than one belief system. We are alive whether we think it matters or not. We have these precious bodies whether we think they just randomly materialized or were created with deliberate magic. To choose to live with little regard for life is tragic to me. Our choices matter. Our intentions matter. Our lives matter. The blip doesn’t negate the importance of what it’s comprised of. In The Lorax by Dr Seuss an entire world lived on one fuzzy speck. Spilled milk in the grand scheme of things doesn’t matter; life in the grand scheme of things does. I truly feel sad for anyone who compares their life to spilled milk. That sounds like a form of depression. If that’s the case, then I understand why one wouldn’t even bother to have their days and nights not bleed into one another. Reckless, selfish, destructive decisions; sure, why not? It can’t be that that’s the system. Anarchy on all levels would ensue, and the world will always have too much of that which we cannot control. It’s interesting that one friend I have who is an atheist and lives pretty carelessly because “what’s the point, the worms and maggots will be tearing me apart inevitably” gets upset about politics. He doesn’t like or agree with Trump’s decisions because they are harmful and irresponsible. He exercises religiously because his body is important to him. I said to him, see? our actions and goals matter to each of us in some ways. Our time here is important. We are affected by one another, on an international scale or on the most personal. What we choose directly affects those around us. Personally, socially, professionally. There’s no way around that. What we eat, how we look, and how desirable we are matters to most of us. Very few people allow themselves to balloon to 500 pounds and don’t ever shower or refuse to contribute to society. There are certain common choices we make that prove we do in fact care about many aspects of our lives. Karma isn’t provable either, but if you rob a bank and get caught then you have set into motion numerous, obvious destructive effects. So too if you smile kindly at a stranger that will also set things into motion. One smile can change the course of someone’s day and benefit so many others, just because the recipient’s energy was softened. Our energy matters because we matter. Our matter matters, regardless of the blip. When a child dies, even a baby, no one will call that a waste of a blip. No one will say, “who cares”. Forget the blip. You’re here now. It might not be important in 50 years. No one will know who you are in 100. But it matters now. You’re here, you may as well maximize that and gather as many rich, full, joyful moments as you can. We can’t resist the blip. It’s our the fate of our future. That’s for later though. All we have is now. Each night zen Buddhist monks recite the ancient evening gatha, in which the last line is “don’t squander your life!”. You deserve the most meaningful present experience. I hope you all believe that and give that to yourselves. It’s your birthright. Love yourself enough to get out of your own way and trust that all of you indeed matters. God may be optional, but you’re here. Be here.