No one promised that life would be a rose garden. I don’t subscribe to a particular or singular philosophy of life, and it’s probably too late in the game to go searching for one. Adopting a philosophy is much easier looking back than looking forward.
Most of what I use as my personal philosphical views of life were learned back in kindergarten. Seriously.
Robert Fulghum merely reminded us of what we learned already but probably forgot as we matured.
The more mature we are, the more we remembered and applied what was taught in kindergarten. The less mature among us are called adults.
For example, in kindergarten we were taught to share, play fair, put things back where you found them, clean up your own mess.
As adults, we learn to get and keep what’s not ours, play hard ball, get others to clean up for us.
In kindergarten we were taught to say you’re sorry when you hurt someone, wash your hands before you eat, and flush. Many adults can barely manage two out of three.
Like Prego, it’s all in there. Kindergarten preaches the Golden Rule, love, and basic sanitation. Politics, equality and ecology. It’s all in there.
So too is what happens to goldfish, hamsters, and white mice. They all die. So do we.
Despite the influences of kindergarten on my adult life, I’ve managed to pick up a few other appendages for my belief system.
Life’s a bitch, then you die. And the Bell Curve. Both go hand in hand.
For the vast majority of humans, life is difficult; a struggle against ourselves and one another, and the world around us. Though we may have a measure of prosperity (and there’s a wide range of what constitutes prosperity), the tenants of the Bell Curve hold true.
Life is very good, full, rich for a blessed few, a struggle for most, and pure wretched pain for a few. In the end, death for all.
Well paid, experienced, and comparably educated medical professionals tell me that my struggle to move from the most populous, middle territory of the Bell Curve to the more prosperous, less populated end of the Bell is about to end.
Based on how I feel today and recently, that may be the case. Again. Interestingly enough, despite the advanced degrees and more advanced medical equipment, they’ve been wrong before.
The Bell Curve philosophy would dictate that they’ll be wrong again, though few admit such a possibility.
Sooner or later, we all become like the goldfish, hamsters, and white mice of kindergarten. We all die. We cannot choose otherwise.
Somewhere between kindergarten and the far reaches of our lives as earthbound goldfish, hamsters, and white mice, we make decisions which may affect our lives within the confines of the Bell Curve.
For some, appropriate choices mean movement from one end of the Curve to the other. For some, certain choices in life may mean a lower spot on the Curve.
For most, life’s just a bitch, then you die. Since kindergarten I’ve learned that there is some latitude in the former, none in the latter.