It’s easy to think that I am special - invincible to the fragile nature of life as a human. My daily annoyances and accomplishments all seem so important. It feels as if the world ought to care about me – they should know that I am unique and interesting, intelligent and irreplaceable. Perhaps that’s why I have a blog? It legitimates my narcissism.

There are moments when I am struck by how much of life is spent in my own head. My body, including my mouth to speak and my hands to type, express very little of what goes on every day – most events, discussions and debates occur in my mind and never make it to the physical realm.

I came in to work today to get some extra work done and was informed that my boss had a heart attack last night. It almost knocked the wind out of me.

How is it that all that I see, think and feel can seem so important for weeks, months or years, and then suddenly be shattered in light of reality? I have had a few of these moments in my life – epiphanies if you will – when I see how meaningless and fragile my own existence is in the grand scheme. Someday I will die, and when I do people will no doubt mourn and cry… but the universe will not cease to exist, the earth will not stop spinning. Seventy years, even a hundred years is not even a wrinkle in time. The lives I’ve touched will only be around for a few decades after I die.

I’m sure my boss will recover, people do every day. And likely, in a few hours I will go back to my old self. But for now I will feel small and insignificant – realizing my life is just a vapor.