The Myth of the Indispensable

without you

As you start your week: This world wields an unforgiving indiscriminate hammer.

Anyone who fools himself into thinking he’s indispensable has usually not suffered the tragedy of losing someone close unexpectedly in the blink of an eye, of fire cleansing his life of everything, or even an aberrant plane falling from the sky. I forget as I go through life that many of those I’m smirking at in disdain for their unrealistic attitude of indispensability have been lucky enough to forego this unforgiving lesson. People who know me often forget that it is an essential part of my minimalist, irreverent nature. I know that several people who know me also misunderstand just how fundamentally different my brain actually works. It’s a struggle for me to pretend to care about scratches in the paint, a few dollars in the profit margin, or even that my shirt is inside-out. I’ve lived half a century, a surprising gift, but I am as equally contemptuous of the incessant importance of trivial concerns as I’ve ever been. Your next morning is going to meet you with whatever plan is at hand and no matter how well prepared you think you are or how necessary you think your presence might be, the dice are going to roll.

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