Late Night Musings

Give me a stable, constant, predictable life. I smirk as I write these words from my well-appointed room, cuddled under pink blankets after a delicious chocolate smoothie. First world problems, to be sure. But they don’t feel first world. They feel existential, immediate. Life or death.

When I studied evolutionary psychology in the 1990s, understanding I evolved to thrive in a world that no longer exists struck me. How out of place am I? If you hauled me off to the Neolithic, my anxiety, complexity, and determination would be assets. Why don’t they feel like assets now?  My brain needs more exciting things than getting my son ready for school.

And how many female forerunners thought the same? Didn’t they choose intelligent mates to make a better world for their children, and so on? All that ambition for me to sit here and feel sorry for myself in comfort and abundance.

The core of me strives to better the world for future generations, but the world will always storm and churn and make its occupants miserable one way or the other. Maybe we need that discontent to evolve, not our bodies, but our understanding of what it is to be human.

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