On the way home from an errand I had to stop to enjoy these clouds billowing up over the Cascade Mountains. Clouds are the ultimate performance artists. They create these massive works of art, and then, phft, they’re gone. They come and go so frequently, we don’t even think about it.
To the earth, we’re just a phft too. To an earth that is 4 billion years old, a person who lives a hundred years is as significant as something that lasts 90 seconds for someone who lives a hundred years. Who cares about something that flits around for just 90 seconds?
When you think about it that way, our lives come and go so quickly, in the grand scheme of things, they have no meaning. Each one of us is just a phft. And that’s a good thing. It’s liberating to know we don’t matter. We’re free to be happy and enjoy life. We don’t have to waste our time building a legacy, accumulating things that in the long run don’t mean a thing, trying to impress the others. We can live like butterflies. All that’s important is what we are doing minute by minute, enjoying all the wonderful phfts that pass our way. We’re as transitory as puffy clouds.
