– How sig­ni­fic­ant can life be? – a pens­ive face behind the brood­ing ques­tion.

– As much sub­stance as you give it. Don't just drift, move for­ward too!

– What do you have in mind?

– To my mind, we live two kinds of life here on Earth. One man drifts ines­cap­ably with his life, his fate car­ries him along, and bey­ond the stock situ­ations noth­ing else ever hap­pens to him. His fate is not a chance but a doom. He never becomes con­scious of his own life, and he is utterly unable to influ­ence his fate. The other man – let us per­haps call him the striver – lives a dif­fer­ent life: in his case even every­day events are warmed through by a kind of full­ness, and even if his life is a very insig­ni­fic­ant one, the greatest mir­acle glints in it. This is the life truly worthy of man, the other is merely a sort of mos­quito-life.

– What a thought, mos­quito-life…? But is there a dif­fer­ence between the lives of anim­als? The life of a mos­quito, or of some other creature… is one more pre­cious than anoth­er?

– Every life is holi­ness, and each deserves respect. But in its own place. You respect the snake too, but from a dis­tance – you do not nurse it in your bosom. You your­self feel that there is a dif­fer­ence between the life of a lion and the life of a mos­quito… from a cer­tain point of view there is.

– And do anim­als have a fate?

– I think so. Look, one creature is a lap­dog pampered with everything, anoth­er an out­cast dog. Of course, some­times a man's life is a dog's life too…

– Hm, I could tell you stor­ies about that. But to come back to it, how long does a man live a mos­quito-life?

– Until we are ready, the other side is not ready to receive us. As long as you have not yet suffered through what you must serve out here, and have not learned what you can come to exper­i­ence only here, in this life, there is no way out.

– And those who depart – are they all pre­pared by then? Has every­one already learned his les­sons?

– I believe in the divine arrange­ment, that atten­tion is there with us. That is to say, it may be that count­less lives slip by that require no par­tic­u­lar atten­tion, that pass even without the per­son­al inter­ven­tion of Provid­ence, without any event of note – mos­quito-lives of a kind. We might also call it idling. But who­ever is very bad, or for that mat­ter very good, earns per­son­al care.

– Per­son­al care?

– I believe that bey­ond the vis­ible there is an invis­ible real­ity, one that is even more import­ant than the vis­ible. These two real­it­ies run in par­al­lel, and we usu­ally do not even notice the more real one, so taken up are we with the vis­ible illu­sion. And yet some­times some­thing gleams through, and full­ness shows itself quite unmis­tak­ably. Per­haps this could be the pur­pose of life: to recog­nise this arrange­ment more and more often, to come ever closer to the divine will.

– Does one sense this? It seems so far away…

– Of course you sense it: when you protest fiercely against your fate, or when you are deeply grate­ful, that is an encounter with per­son­al provid­ence. You fall into the depths only until you hit the ground, but as for the heights, there is no limit.

– And if we had to sum up, say, what the sig­ni­fic­ance of our life should be, or, as you put it, what sub­stance we should give it…?

– If I say free­dom, will you be sat­is­fied? Free as the wind… One man is free out­wardly, like a bird, bound by no lim­its and no pet­ti­ness. Anoth­er is free with­in. From out­side his life seems noth­ing but bonds, yet with­in he is a free bird… seek out your own per­son­al free­dom. Spir­itu­al free­dom is very import­ant.