I’ve seen these hundreds, nay, thousands of times on websites, but only recently did the truly ominous implication strike me so bluntly. It’s like the ultimate personal surrender, the terminal consignment of self, the final relinquishment of free will. You either SUBMIT or you don’t, there are no options, there’s no in-between. There’s often small print at the bottom that says something similar to this one. As is well known, understood, and expected, nobody clicks off to some other page to read whatever it is before they SUBMIT. Maybe you should think about it. I’m going to. Even so, there’s still no guarantee that what one is about to SUBMIT to will have anything to do with one’s expectations. Just remember, once you SUBMIT, THAT’S IT. Have you ever seen an UN-SUBMIT button afterwards? I didn’t think so.
Besides family members, there are other Instagram accounts I follow, such as iflscience, lightsnature, lovely_earthshotz, iss (Space Station), setiinstitute, starlitlandscapes, nasa, and others. Recently, one of them posted an aurora borealis video that not only blew my mind but brought tears to my eyes. I thought, “If anyone wanted proof there’s a god…” Of course, I know the scientific explanation of how these lights are created. But, the fact that such mesmerizing beauty can result from a few cosmic particles interacting with a few other particles seemed to raise the question, “Why should it be that way?” This reminded me of the old adage about a tree falling in the forest, whether it makes a sound if there’s nobody there to hear it. Would the incredible beauty of the northern lights exist if there was nobody there to see it? If one generalizes from that question to all of the other beauty that exists in nature on our little planet, not to mention the cosmos, perhaps one would discern an answer to the age old question, “Why are we here?” Seems obvious to me at the moment.
A very senior neighbor up the street services and rebuilds lawn mowers. He fixed mine last year when the starter rope disappeared. I had him service it for the upcoming mowing season last weekend, and yesterday gave it a test and mowed the back yard. Some of the grass and weeds were six inches high or more. The old line between “home” and “office” has been wiped away thanks to the virus. I should probably make a work schedule. And then today we awoke to a return of winter, as evidenced by the icicles on the mailbox. There were predictions of freezing rain and drizzle, which mostly didn’t materialize. Temperature was 30 with a wind chill of 19. Since the roads weren’t too slick I made a run downtown to the post office for mail and my office to get a few more things to bring home, but otherwise did office work inside. Sometime the next few days will bring back sunshine and spring, I think. Ah, Kansas. Love it? Leave it? Nah, just tolerate it.