Nothing in this world is permanent.

I was doing a load of laundry today. A few minutes ago, I went to retrieve a bunch of darks from the dryer. When I opened the door, on the ledge of the lint trap rested a container for cinnamon flavoured Listerine PocketPaks. I remembered that I had stuffed a pack that had about three strips left in my Old Navy sweater. I opened the package out of curiosity, and found it completely empty. I was surprised for a moment in a moment of stupidity, but quickly correct myself. “Of course they’re gone, you dumb ass.” Luckily, the rest of my clothes didn’t end up smelling of cinnamon mouthwash.

As silly as it may seem, this drives home a set of thoughts I’d been having all weekend. The passing of the Pope was a bit rough. I realize he was old, and his health was deteriorating fast. Still, it didn’t make it any less surprising when it was announced. He’s the only head of the Catholic church that I’ve ever known. He was like a permanent figure in my mind. He was always there. Now…he’s gone.

A couple of days ago, I think it was Wednesday, I was watching CBC Newsworld with my parents. Yes, we were watching Newsworld as a family. I’m surprised by it, too. Anyway, The Hour with George Stroumboulopoulos was on. He was speaking about a report that appeared that basically stated that the world is now totally fucked. Mankind is on the path of self-desturction. It’s not like this warning is coming from a bunch of hippie activists, either. Things are just not going to be the same in the near future, so they say. I don’t want to be like Chicken Little running around saying that the sky is falling. At the same time, I can’t help but buy into the fact that we are living an unsustainable lifestyle.

So, alright, where does this put me? Over the last few days, I’ve been contemplating my possible future. I’ve mentioned it before, and truthfully, what I’ve said still holds now: I can’t see that far into my future. Graduation comes in about a year’s time. Interestingly enough, I can’t predict anything of what’s to become of me beyond August, much less beyond graduation. Is there a point in fretting? I guess not. Hell, we may not even live to see our 40s. Who knows, right?

A little while ago, I was surfing around and reading some other people’s blogs. Seems that this introspection is common at this time. People have been complaining about not having the drive, or people not being able to live up to everyone’s expectations. I don’t want to add my voice to this choir of the distraught, because there’s no way you can predict how great or how average you’re going to be.

There’s this story of a man whose brother was a well respected doctor that was loved by many people. He was handsome, and very good at soccer. He was busy studying and helping people with scarlet fever, when he contracted it himself and quickly died. He took it easy for a while, and took up acting. He was well respected. He eventually lost his parents as well, after which, he turned to religion and became a priest. He barely survived being taken to concentration camps by the Nazis during World War II for being a priest. As a priest, he worked with youth, and counselled young couples. He even wrote a book on human sexuailty.

That man? Carol Wojtyla. He rose through the ranks of the bureaucracy and eventually became leader to billions of the faithful worldwide. He became better known as Pope John Paul II.

I guess, in the end, what I’m trying to say is the future is just one big mystery. Millions of years from now, the Sun will collapse (or explode…whatever). Mankind isn’t going to last that long. Hundreds of years from now, there will likely be no record of me, or anything I’ve accomplished. So, in the end, I guess all I can do is do my best right now. If I don’t make a difference worldwide, does it really matter? Does it matter, especially when the people around me right now are the ones that feel the immediate effects of my being here?

I need to sleep on it.