Today, I had a conversation with someone I hadn't seen for a few weeks. We talked about what we'd been reading recently. I was happy to be able to tell her about the story behind my reading Man's Search for Meaning. She reacted positively, saying "That's a lot of coincidences in a row, and there's no such thing as a coincidence."
That really was a remarkable series of events, a gift, a sobering one, but still a gift. Why me, though???
I had thought the Internet Me might try to understand everyone's point of view, and then I'd
find ways to build bridges, so reasonable alternatives to a brewing
Civil War might be found. I'm just one person, but if enough people tried
to communicate that way, maybe after a while, there would be a trend toward civility and reason.
I'm butting up against is this: once people have decided they're going
to have themselves a war, bridges don't get built. Bridges get blown up,
and that, right merrily.
I'm getting tired of the Culture Wars, but at least I'm not in a Nazi concentration camp. The Lord's Prayer is a gift, The Shema is a gift. Access to God is a gift. The people who were able to transcend soul-crushing conditions in the Nazi prison camps realized these things. Being of service made their lives meaningful.
Read, meditate, write. Then every few posts or so, ask myself, why on earth am I doing this?