The fire of life

Someone put you there, and maybe it makes you happy that you don't belong there. That there is sun and water you're about to fall splashing into. That you “not belonging there” might be a metaphor for being born, but what the hell, right?

It's not like anyone can do a thing about it. Here we all are. We're all smiling and about to be subject to gravity. At least we have something warm and soft to catch us.

Here we are with a fire in our eyes, but why should it be a fire to revenge ourselves against something so unchanging as what's waiting, not what's down there... but what's waiting for us all.

No, it's nothing arch and nothing awful. We live in the short space between being lifted and crashing below. We live and we have no choice in this, but why be angry when we have the time and the space to be whatever it is we are meant to become. We unfold in the moment, we are mysteries to ourselves, we are wrong over and over and over again and this is the way of life and of being alive.

There is no “business” in living, only the attempt at understanding. So why not smile and take what's being given? It's the fire of life that demands the smile. The fall is just an artifact that has nothing to do with living.