All Importance and Seriousness

"I adore simple pleasures. They are the last refuge of the complex." -- Oscar Wilde

I may not be particularly complex, but I have found it increasingly difficult to get excited about a lot of things that everyone else finds dumbfounding. I love simple, little things, and find less and less to get worked up about the longer I live.

I guess I'm just not serious enough anymore. For whatever reason, things aren't as important as they were when I was younger and discovering them for the first time. Of course, I was convinced that I was the one who'd stumbled on these eternal truths, but that was before I'd heard Mark Twain's line about Adam being the only man who could proclaim with any certainty that no one else had thought of these things.

My pain was personal, and I used it to learn. And what I learned is that while many things like breast cancer and Mexicans dehydrating in the Arizona desert are serious, I'm no longer convinced any of it is what I'd call important. Maybe nothing is important, and our attempts to elevate issues to that state say more about us than they do about anything intrinsic to the issue.

We're all going to die, I think. That's serious, but it's so common that it can't be important. And, if life isn't important, than it should be enjoyed and not taken seriously.