“…Tsch, you know, lately the strangest things have been going through my mind, ’cause I turned forty, tsch, and I guess I’m going through a life crisis or something, I don’t know. I, uh… and I’m not worried about aging. I’m not one o’ those characters, you know. Although I’m balding slightly on top, that’s about the worst you can say about me. I, uh, I think I’m gonna get better as I get older, you know? I think I’m gonna be the-the balding virile type, you know, as opposed to say the, uh, distinguished gray, for instance, you know? ‘Less I’m neither o’ those two. …” – Woody Allen in Annie Hall

Plodding along in a relatively banal job the past few weeks has provided much food for thought.  Pre-eminent among this mental food has been to consider the purpose of things that don’t seem to mean or matter much at all.  Also, to wonder when ‘life will really start’, whether the fruits of this banal labour really matter at all in the greater scheme of things, and as Lorenzo Albacete wrote; why why why why why!

I heard a NZ poet talk about a poem he had written – it was (this sounds strange now I write it down…) likening life to an egg carton or corrugated cardboard (bear with me) – in life one may skim over the top of each moment and experience, like bouncing along over the peaks in the egg carton or raised ridges on corrugated card, always looking on and forward but never slowing down to consider the real depth in each moment of life, the richness that each moment and experience is full of.

However strange this analogy may seem, I think there’s truth in it.  Life can become mechanical, prayers can become repetition without considering the depth of meaning in each word; each day can seem like the next step toward the weekend, rather than another shot at living a better life – of starting again anew and being a better person at the end of the day.

Life doesn’t begin after graduation, or when one enters the workforce, or when one earns enough money to never work again; life begins right now; life is now, this very moment and minute.  What I do in this moment, this second is defining my life and character.

I guess a mid-life crisis may be when a person suddenly finds themselves stopping to consider what the real fruits of their life and labour really are.  It’s the question of Ecclesiastes – is it all just ‘vanity’?  It’s the question secularism ultimately has to face at some point – and it has no answer.  At times like this I feel grateful for the blessing of my Christian faith.  Without faith – how can Woody Allen’s character ever satisfactorily fill the gaping hole of his mid-life crisis?

All this has been building up to this rather splendid quote I found a while ago:

“All people want to leave a mark which lasts. But what remains? Money does not. Buildings do not, nor books. After a certain amount of time, whether long or short, all these things disappear. The only thing which remains forever is the human soul, the human person created by God for eternity. The fruit which remains then is that which we have sowed in human souls – love, knowledge, a gesture capable of touching the heart, words which open the soul to joy in the Lord. Let us then go to the Lord and pray to him, so that he may help us bear fruit which remains. Only in this way will the earth be changed from a valley of tears to a garden of God.” – Pope Benedict XVI, Homily at the Mass for the Election of the Roman Pontiff.