I remember once sitting by the sea and trying to think about something truly profound. You know that Robert Sheckley story, "What Is Life?" I thought I'd try my hand at a little high-minded thinking myself.
The setting seemed perfect for it: sunshine, silence, an endless stretch of water in front of me. Just the right moment to contemplate life, time, human nature, and all those other things people are supposed to think about while sitting by the sea with a thoughtful look on their faces.
But it soon became clear that my mind had other plans.
The water kept shimmering in the sunlight, constantly changing its shades and patterns. I would watch the reflections, try to return to those thoughts, only to realize a second later that I was simply staring at the water again.
At some point, it became obvious that philosophy was a lost cause. There was the sea, the sun, the stones beneath my feet, and a very pleasant feeling that, right now, I really didn't have to think about anything profound at all. And perhaps that was one of the few pieces of wisdom actually worth arriving at.
Though, to be honest, I don't think I even got that far.
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