It is no great revaluation to anybody that most of us strive without quite understanding to what we are striving, and less still, to what end we are striving. Attempting to attach meaning to what we do is the curse to which we are all doomed. Even the most hard put-to individual, so long as he is given his individuality, must sometimes wonder for what purpose they do this, or that. Why rise at a particular time of the morning; why greet a familiar or a stranger in an almost proscribed fashion; why pause and day-dream about where we'd rather be other than where we are; why, at the close of day, ask yourself if you are further ahead, or further behind. We have not lost the ability to be free so much as we have allowed ourselves to be lead on by the vanity of others. We do, from birth, get swept into the flood that drags us ever closer to the precipice, from which we must inevitably fall, never to return. Many of us largely spend our days struggling against the current, hardly managing to keep our heads long enough above water to admire the shore as it rushes past. I do not contend that it is easy, or perhaps even possible, to pull ourselves out of the flood altogether, but there are culverts and protected parts where the current runs less harshly, where we may, for a short time, grab hold of the bows of ancient trees that lean out over the banks, not for us to hold, but to reach out - for that is the destiny of a tree; it is in reaching out that it drops its fruit, which may then seed, take root, and form the next generation which promulgates the moment of individual genesis. Still, even in such a situation, to what end does this generational promulgation lead? In the absence of a greater meaning, all striving must take on local significance. If we view ourselves through the lens of Eternity, local significance could perhaps mean our own lives; the lives of the people who surround us; the lives of our city folk, countryman; those of the world; but from thence where do we aim? Should we be able to reach out past the boundaries of this planet Earth and leave our mark on nearby planets, then what? Our Solar System is but one in millions in our galaxy which is but one in billions in the observed universe. Without an external moral reference, all that we do has only local significance. Time forgets us completely. Time will wipe us from the slate of the past. Why then strive? We strive because without either tacitly or explicitly leaning on local significance, our lives fade to utter insignificance and we either take it away in one quick action, or allow it to fade out like a chalk drawing washed out by consecutive rains.

I don't claim to have full grasp of the reasons for which I wake up in the morning beyond the most obvious. I wake up because I must; I wake up because, while this life is mine, it is precious to me if to no one else. Even in the absence of my children and wife, I would wake up because I am able to do so; I am capable of breathing in fresh air which enervates my nerves; I am able to read a book which stimulates my thinking; I am able to sit in silence and contemplate the way the wind moves the branches of a tree and not wonder at anything but the fact that I can be mesmerized by such an ancient trick. It does not matter that I believe in evolution, or that I understand there are Laws of physics (even if I don't understand them in their particulars). It matters only that I have the capacity for cognition and feeling, and that as long as I am a free man, in some sense at least, that I be. All things are slaves to the natural processes that give rise to them. I am a slave to my basic needs of hunger, consumption, elimination and sleep. I am also slave to more metaphysical needs as contemplation, beauty and problem solving. This brain of mine demands a certain level of attention that I feel compelled to nourish it with, and if I do not tend it loyally, it will rebel and drive me to illness. I have had it happen, and it manifests itself in severe discomfort and irritability. It is the metaphysical bonds which are, in my personal view, the most difficult to satisfy. Hunger and consumption may be dealt with using any number of means so long as the consumables are not poisonous or noxious; sleep may be satisfied at any time in the form of formal sleep, naps, or nodding off during dull meetings. Elimination, if not dealt with summarily, will take care of itself.

I feel that I am thirsty and hungry and will forage (if so feral a term may be used in so pedestrian a context) in the pantry cupboard to find something pleasant to eat.

It is, by the by, a rather dangerous thing to read Thoreau when in a contemplative mood; or perhaps there is no other mood suited for that very thing.