I once read that over 50,000 books have been published just as commentary to Dante’s Inferno. 50,000 and counting.  

There is a conversation going on where one voice (Dante) generates 50,000 other voices.  

Now imagine what kind of ocean of knowledge that has been created with all the passion of humanity as we argue and comment and create throughout history.  

We are swamped with information.  

There are over 1.7 billion websites on the Internet.  

Billion is a big number. 

If a second of time is one foot long, then a million seconds is 189 miles, or the distance from here to McDonough or Orlando. One billion seconds is 189,393 miles long, or 7.6 trips circumnavigating the earth.  

That ocean is full of knowledge, some of which is published in books. “They” say that 129,864,880 books have ever been published. If a book is a foot long, that’s a line of books 24,595 miles long. Roughly one trip around the entire globe. 

And more are being published every year: 2.2 million in 2020 alone. 

I’m blessed to find time to read 2 or 3 a month. 

At that rate let’s say I am able to read 1200 more books before I die. That’s a line of books a little less than a quarter mile long. Almost all of which will be in one language. 

I am a rubber ducky floating in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. 

But before I learned about this massive amount of information and massive amount of space out there, I say myself as a pretty good sized goose in a small pond.  

Boy what perspective will do! 

We are afloat in this sea of knowledge, but we take it for granted. We have access to all of it, so we don’t feel the need to enjoy or experience it.  

But the joy of life is deepened only in the people you meet, the places you’ve been, and the books you read. 

We may all be rubber duckies floating around, but the joy of a rubber ducky is in being a rubber ducky: bobbing around at his heart’s content and never bumping into land.  

It’s a beautiful thing to be lost at sea. 

But there is a dark underbelly. 

The ocean is so large that it can cause us to either fall asleep in apathy or become depressed in our ambition. 

King Solomon in the book Ecclesiastes wrote about this. He was the greatest king on the planet at the time with arguably the most powerful kingship in history. 

And yet he found himself floating at sea, detached from the meaningful and satisfying life he thought he’d earned. 

He said the more books you read, the more frustrated you become. 

The more wisdom you acquire, the more pain you invite into your soul. 

The more wine, women, and wealth you enjoy, the less it satisfies. 

And yet, without wisdom, life is meaningless. 

Seems like a Catch-22. 

Solomon was the biggest man alive, but he was still just a rubber ducky. 

What’s the point? 

King Solomon spent his whole life trying to conquer the seas of life, but he fell short. Only at the end of his life did he finally see himself in the true, right perspective. 

The meaning in life isn’t in how much of the ocean you’ve conquered, but in how much of it has conquered you. 

Don’t read books to see how many you can get through but how many can get through you. 

Same for travel and friendships. 

The heart of wisdom lies in perspective, not accomplishments alone. 

You don’t have to figure it all out; you just have to be able to see the big picture. 

Then you will be secure, no matter what life throws your way; no matter what new book comes out this year. 

Then you will be able to enjoy being you: a rubber ducky in the middle of the great Pacific.