Some things in life are absurd. You know it. I know it. We know it.

It is absurd that we eat that round thing coming out of a chicken’s butt.

Absurd. No doubt about it. It was truly not meant for us, but for the chicken’s regenerative and reproductive cycle. And yet, we have egg salad sandwiches and eggs benedict.

It is absurd that we were bold and adventurous enough to put our head and hands under a giant stinky cow covered in horseflies and pull on their udders for the milk nature (or some great technician in the sky) designed perfectly for the little baby cows hungry for mama’s cow milk.

But boy oh boy doesn’t vanilla ice cream taste good?

That is the absurdity, the irony and the mystery.

We were bold enough to take a cow’s milk designed for a cow and make Swiss cheese omelets.

It is also highly absurd that human beings spend an inordinate amount of time pontificating and preaching systems of belief—many in direct collusion and contradiction with each other at the very same time—that cause us to be fully separated from each other—all by virtue of our deeply held beliefs in something we often can’t even see, feel or touch.

One may argue that, as with cheese omelets and vanilla ice cream sundaes, they can feel or at least believe they feel some direct higher power or person guiding their life.

Maybe so. Maybe so.

There’s obviously something greater than us humans and our ice cream cones that’s running this show. I know we’re not smart enough to put this whole cheese enchilada called life and the universe together.

Some mornings we can’t even find our car keys.

In the end it doesn’t matter if we like cheese omelets, vanilla ice cream, or some mysterious higher power.

What matters is how we treat each other in the meantime.

Are we sharing our ice cream? Our beliefs? Our omelets?

Are we ok if some of us don’t like omelets or vanilla ice cream?

Do all of us need to eat and believe the same thing in order to get along?

Maybe some people just like apples, lettuce and trust in the way a tree blooms fruit every year. They don’t need omelets, ice cream or a big fat book (actually many different big fat books) documenting the great unseen system of creation.

In the end, I just try and stay funny. It’s one of the only things we humans can truly unite behind.

Everyone enjoys a good joke. No matter who told it…