Rising hens may not seem sufficient prerequisite for living in the world. In fact, that hens have built-in knowledge (so that they know what to do naturally and do not experience existential angst like me) is still bit of a mystery.

Returning to yesterday’s question, “Why might my life be filled with drama, heartache, existential angst, and person b. for no recognizable reason, seems to be happy and carefree?” Honest people will say that largely life comes to us all. Few if any escape it’s hardships in one form or another…

But, my question rests on a concern that somehow I am to blame. I took a nap one day, something I rarely do…and Buffy the hen died. For twenty minutes I sought relief from the incessant demands of life, I forgot them in a hopeful escape, and someone died. Sometimes being a human being is more than I can bare.

Maybe if I just did everything right? 🤔That seems impossible, too. I think that is why I fell asleep that day in the first place. The problems, responsibilities, and cares were too many.

The only conclusion I can find is that human beings are not capable of operating alone. There’s some source, wisdom, enlightenment that must be missing. It’s like being disconnected from What I may call “god” the thing which makes life complete and meaningful. And above all, the god-figure, makes life make sense.

The missing What or ‘god’ must be from another source and not myself. I know this must be true because- if I make the rules – I’d just tell myself anything that makes me happy and feel good all the time. I can be very persuasive.

Truth becomes irrelevant in this Me-centric scenario. My happiness- Me- is the object of worship to which all things including reason must be sacrificed. If all the hens in the hen house made their own rules, there would be hen chaos. Right? Daily. Everyday new problems and chaos. We may never have eggs again if the hens just decided, hey- I am not laying eggs anymore. I am oppressed! I want to be free!

The end result is a bunch of bored hens, looking for something to do, finding anything and trying everything for amusement. To pass the time is their new object, since they gave up their original purpose. How Milton describes Hell: an unreal place in the mind where I am very virtuous in my own eyes! And, Who can say otherwise?? I assert most impudently.

I may be skilled at words (at moments). But, what I say becomes completely skewed if I decide myself and my own happiness is the whole object of life. And, “I” make the rules. Forgive if any words may seem rambling. My object is to find what is true even if it means hacking through an unkempt jungle of thoughts and ideas to make order out of the chaos.

To conclude, today’s take away is: If I was qualified to make the rules that govern my existence, I’d still have four hens, happily hunting and pecking in my yard. I’d be eating fresh eggs regularly! I’d know what to do and how to do it. My life would be one ending stream of happy satisfaction, productivity, and peace!

Nope. I am no god-figure in my story. Maybe that is why we suffer? To bring our thoughts and imaginations into their rightful place, the employment of ending human tragedy. And in that employment, find we our true selves.