On day one, I poked an eye open. And shut it tight.
On day two, I tried again, looked around, grasped for something, clutched it tight. Then I ate it.
On day three (a lot of things happened between days two and three), I started thinking.
On day four, the thinking bore fruit. I realized that life is about eating and being eaten. The longer you can keep from being eaten (or getting killed some other way), the more you can eat and enjoy it (and get things done otherwise, which usually, ultimately, has to do with eating). So I got better at it.
On day five, I realized that life is about carving out a bubble of security so you don’t have to worry about being eaten. Social animals like us do that together, which is why we need each other. (Where’ve you been all along.) Some do it better than others, usually with a lot of training and socialization, and when they do, they’re capable of some admirable achievements (beyond the eating, though that can be admirable, too).
On day six, I realized that there are times when something comes along and bursts that bubble of security. A pandemic, a war, a hurricane, an earthquake, an extraterrestrial invasion. When it does, we get anxious. Sometimes we get anxious anyway, which is an indicator that our bubble isn’t working very well. Day six fills the world. Its cup overfloweth.
On day seven, I realized, whoa.
