There’s an often-told Jewish folk tale about a man who complains to his rabbi that he can get a moment’s peace in his tiny home filled with wild and noisy children.
There are no highs without lows, no joy without pain. The culture we live in has misled us into believing that somewhere out there is a place of perfect happiness where we can exist in a perpetual state of bliss.
But even the highest plateau quickly acquires the gray tedium of sameness.
That’s the challenge we face now, confined to our homes, with no end in sight. Some of us are all alone. Some of us are too close for comfort. But it could be a lot worse. And for many, many people, it is.
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