Lately i have been thinking about how seriously to take life. Well, to be honest, it would be kind of stretching it to call it thinking. It's more like posing the question to myself during those quiet moments in between breathing, looking at it blankly for a few seconds more as a choking confusion corks up the throat, and then some menial detail reels me back; like turning off the shower, or examining my nails, or picking up the pencil that just dropped to the floor. Afterwards a vague satisfaction settles in, that i have somehow nudged one of those 'profound questions'. If i had a beard, i have a feeling i would stroke it importantly. Perhaps mumble some wiseacre saying into it, full of words like 'rather' and 'indeed' that any fool can learn.
Anyway, here i am, there's no escape from myself now: how seriously should one take life? I mean, there's the two common sayings that wag a finger at the extremes:
"One shouldn't take life lightly" or "life isn't a joke". And if that was north, this is south;
"You shouldn't take life too seriously [no one ever gets out alive anyway]"
I suppose the best way to wade our way through is simply to do and think in whichever way comes naturally. If you're forever attempting to ape a mindset- perhaps struggling to see metaphor at every street corner or an anecdote in every cereal box - then you'd never be at peace with yourself. That little axiom- 'do what comes naturally'- sounds like the words of a psychiatrist. But don't you think that advice bruises our capacity to grow and to learn? One way to shape ourselves into someone better is by holding back some natural impulse. That swear word grinding against your lips came naturally from your lungs, but it's best if you swallow it, or at least chew on it until you can cough it out in your closet five minutes later. That cruel laugh provoked by that poor sod who has her dress tucked into her undies- that's natural, but it isn't exactly the right reaction. Even that self-absorbed worry; that forehead crease has the potential to create a dent and a sag in the company spirit, cast an invisible net over the party and prevent it from reaching it's acme. I could say laugh when you feel like laughing, but there are probably some lewd bastards out there that would locate levity in a young girls rape.
In fact, it's likely quite a large portion of the time we conceal what comes naturally around others. Balancing the necessary pretence and the actual is vital for a credible personality.
There's a reason i like math. There can only be one answer (unless, of course, it's a quadratic, or cubic or whatever, for which there a several)
I wonder how acute the human radar for pretence is.

I found the beach in my hair this morning, and that put the beach in my head. I got to thinking of Friday evening, when my dad wouldn't have to think about work the next day. We'll drive down with the sun making orange streaks on our blue subaru, past the roiling undergrowth and the gums, who salute stiffly without a breeze to make their thousand fingers dance. Then, there it'll be- the blue under blue, the shifting mass under the still. We'll walk down the dunes, seeing if the sands memory of others that day could fit into our shoes. I'll smile as i'm smiling now, looking at the sea that gnaws hungrily at the land, the tidal teeth nattering comically, then drawing back as though slinking off to savour it's nonexistant kill. We'll bring cards, and i'll deal us all a terrible hand. Even though we'll bring a picnic blanket the sand will creep in somehow, like an army of ants attracted to the sweet smell of life. Mum will complain about it later, but it doesn't matter now. The sea will swallow the sun and the horizon will suck the saturation from the sky and leave us all breathless, us and the rest of the world.