In the past week, I haven’t had much inspiration to write. There is nothing deep or clever coming to my mind. Some of this is because I have been busy with work and out of town guests. I am also having the allergies from hell, which drives to to distraction.

Another week begins. It will be a week like any other. I will have the usual days with the typical activities. Even the ‘treats’ will be mundane.

Birdie recently posted a humorous rap song about an everyday normal guy. It makes me think how ‘everyday normal’ I am. I go to work, earn a salary, drop off the dry cleaning, walk the dog, etc.

As I approach 50 I realize I have a decent but ordinary life. I am not writing “The Great Novel”, nor am I a pioneer in my field. I am doing nothing incredible; life is “everyday normal”.

It makes me recall a Japanese movie about a man living with a woman at the bottom of a large sand pit. He can’t climb out of it. Everyday they have to bail out falling sand. Their life consists of bailing sand, over and over. At first he feels trapped in this trivium. By the end of the movie he is content in his life. Viewers are left to decide if he grew in wisdom or succumbed to a defeat. How much of our life is like this man’s?

So much of life is a daily mundane routine, we get up, do things, and retire, only to do it again. Is this something for which to be content or a sign of despair?

Some days I don’t know; it seems to depend on my approach.