"Millions long for immortality who do not know what to do with themselves on a rainy Sunday afternoon." - Susan Ertz

Susan Ertz’s provocative statement, “Millions long for immortality who do not know what to do with themselves on a rainy Sunday afternoon,” serves as a scathing critique of modern life’s paradox: we yearn for the infinite while neglecting the beauty of the finite. In an era defined by constant connectivity and endless distractions, many find themselves adrift, unable to fill the void that arises when the busyness of daily life gives way to quiet reflection. This disconnection from the present moment—this inability to find meaning in mundane tasks or stillness—has led to a collective longing for something greater, something everlasting. Yet, perhaps what we truly need is not immortality, but a deeper appreciation for the fleeting moments that make life rich and meaningful.

In cities across the globe, people spend their weekends scrolling through endless feeds, chasing likes and validation, or zoning out in front of screens, afraid to let their minds wander. When the rain pours and the world slows down, instead of embracing the opportunity for introspection or creativity, many feel a profound sense of restlessness. This restlessness, Ertz suggests, is a symptom of a society that has lost touch with the value of stillness and the beauty of ordinary moments. We are so focused on chasing the next big thing—the next promotion, the next relationship, the next technological advancement—that we have forgotten how to be content with what we already have.

The pursuit of immortality, in this context, becomes a metaphor for our broader quest for happiness. We believe that if we can just achieve that one thing—be it wealth, fame, or eternal life—we will finally feel fulfilled. Yet, as Ertz’s phrase reminds us, this pursuit is often driven by a deeper sense of emptiness, a feeling that something is missing even in the moments when we should feel full. On a rainy Sunday afternoon, when life doesn’t demand our constant attention, we are forced to confront the quiet, introspective parts of ourselves that we’ve been avoiding. And in those moments, we realize that what we truly long for is not immortality, but meaning.

The solution, then, lies not in seeking to extend our lives beyond measure, but in finding ways to live more fully in the present. It lies in valuing the small, everyday moments that make up the fabric of our lives—the cups of tea, the walks in the park, the conversations with loved ones. It lies in embracing the rhythm of life, rather than trying to control or escape from it. As the great thinker Aslan once said, “It is not life we should fear, but the emptiness that comes when we forget how to live.” In a world that often feels overwhelming, perhaps the key to finding fulfillment is not in seeking immortality, but in learning to cherish the ordinary, to find beauty in the everyday, and to appreciate the fleeting moments that make life worth living.

So next time the rain falls and the world seems to slow down, instead of searching for distractions, take a moment to breathe. Let your mind wander. Perhaps you’ll discover that the answers you seek are not in the endless pursuit of something greater, but in the quiet joy of being present, right where you are. After all, it’s not about living forever, but about living well, in this moment, on this rainy Sunday afternoon.