No Run, 30 to 40 km winds
On the way home from work today I got to thinking about the value of what I am doing with my life. Although the work I accomplish is valuable (they wouldn't pay my wage if there was no value, would they?) It seems to me that it could easily be done by someone else. With billions of workers on the planet, I can hardly have a unique talent.
In what way is what I do special? How do I contribute to a world filled with worker-drones?
An ant hill has millions of virtually identical worker ants. Genetically, they are identical twin sisters. Almost like photocopies. Each ant wanders around ready to do any task that comes to hand (or perhaps pincher?) "There is a stone in the middle of this tunnel, I'll move it down the passage so it is out of the way." "This chamber is vacant, I will make it ready to be used for a brood chamber; ready for the next occupant." If some other ant encounters these tasks before me, they perform them and I simply look for something else to do. The task does not fit the ant, the ant simply finds the task.
As I look down on this ant hill from my godly position, I see only a mass of ants. They scurry here and there, each on their own "assigned task" Their ant hill, 100 times bigger than their diminutive size, is a marvel of their accumulated accomplishments.
So, my ant accomplishments are insignificant when you look at the entire ant world. With my smarter than average ant brain, I could decide that the queen ant would never notice if I went down a side passage and had a little nap.
Just don't tell the rest of the ants, because then nothing would get done and the hill would fall to ruin.
I guess I had better do my work after all.
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