What’s it all about?

by tamarjacobson

Not to sound too despondent or pessimistic, but as I was squeezing juice out of my grapefruit this morning, I had the feeling that I have been doing this every morning for years. Granted, when I lived in Israel, over twenty five year ago, I squeezed juice out of oranges every morning, so in a sense there has been some change. In those days I squeezed many oranges for their juice because I was preparing a healthy drink for my son and husband at the time. These days I only squeeze one grapefruit, and it's just for me because Life Partner would probably find it too acidic. 

Back to squeezing my grapefruit this morning, because as I did so it occurred to me that when I die, I will not remember the endless squeezing of grapefruits. Nor will I remember all the tiny routine chores I do robotically each day. The rhythm of routine and chores suddenly seemed pointless to me, and I looked up from squeezing and thought (almost out loud), "So, what's it all about?"

Of course, that is a question for the ages. Many famous philosophers, theologians, and psychologists, not to mention all kinds of regular folk, have thought about this question from various points and dimensions. Some actually believe they have found an answer. I must admit that this morning I have no response to my question. Indeed, I have no clue what "it's" all about. I just know that some days I have enormous amounts of energy to continue with my tiny, routine chores, and at other times I look up to the sky, or ceiling as it was today, and think, "What's it all about?"

I wonder what I will think about before I die. Of course, I cannot know if I will lie languishing and pondering the end of my days, or if I will be snapped out of life in an instant. But, still, I can't help but wonder what might be my last and final thought. I suspect it could well be something as mundane as squeezing my grapefruit on a cold and wintry morning, for who knows how the mind works and what associations I will have with what is occurring at that time. Plus, I may not know that in the next moment my life will be over.

I read through what I have written and sigh. Ho hum – Much ado about nothing. Life goes on. Some days this, other times that. And yet, I can't help it. This morning, I am still left wondering, "So … What's it all about?"

A year ago at Mining Nuggets: Back in time …