the lightness of me

I have been thinking a lot about lightness recently.

A Czech writer named Milan Kundera wrote a wonderful novel named The Unbearable Lightness of Being. He examines the philosophies of Nietzche, and eternal return. He says that in a universe in which our actions were repeated endlessly, they would have weight. But as we live in a universe where we only are allotted one life each, our lives have an unbearable lightness.

To think that what I do with my life will ultimately have no impact has always been unbearable to me. I am my least happy in jobs and tasks that are mundane, that hold absolutely no weight. These new jobs with weight though, they are exhausting. I find myself drawing back, and trying to be light. I try to reconcile myself with the fact that my presence will have no effect on the people I am working with. I want to be light, because being heavy is so hard.

And then I always end up watching a teaching movie. These "based on a true story" tales that make me think that maybe if I tried hard enough, it would be possible to really "make a difference." So I desperately cling to the hope that I have already, or will someday have a lasting impact on another human being. I want to affect a life at risk.