Pondering the point of it all again. Only this time I think I may have something resembling an answer.
And one of the things I beat myself up over is doing something which doesn't have a specific necessity. Which isn't going to have any great outcome. Or which is (shock horror) just for fun.
Take my new hobby of hama beading. What the hell is the point of that? Surely I'm just wasting time I could be tidying the house or cooking or teaching my children to be concert pianists or international tennis stars. Other parents do that. It's true. But the truth is I like to sit and make pretty things with those annoying beads that spill everywhere everytime the table is bumped. And my older kids love it too.
What about bushwalking? Don't get me wrong, I love to bush walk - but it's not exactly solving world hungry or curing cancer. It's just a pointless amble through the scrub.
And worse, what about activities that might actually kill you? What could possibly be the point of jumping out of a perfectly good airplane (aka skydiving)?
But here's the epiphany I've had: all that frivolous stuff that doesn't seem to mean anything, adds up to make you who you are. Maybe hama beading teaches me patience; I know it bonds me with my girls. Maybe bushwalking gives me health and time to think. And maybe pointlessly risking your life to jump out of a plane makes you believe in yourself more. Makes you more aware of the amazing things you can achieve. You might just do something truly awesome in the world because you did something silly on your weekend.
What do you think? Is there a point to a life of distraction after all? Is distraction actually purpose in disguise?
PS: I will never skydive. Just saying...