Hardy greetings, my Constant Reader. I've finished my sojourn to the outer reaches of the galaxy on a mission of mercy. One dear friend of an alien persuasion was in need of what you humans call compassion, and having more than plenty, I offered all. There's nothing quite as moving as being in the presence of gratitude from a living thing. So now that I'm safely back upon earth with no one the wiser, I notice with great clarity nothing much has changed. Yet this is a dear comfort in times of uncertainty, would you not agree? Surely to find your old books and papers still lying about in heaps just as you left them gives one a final feeling of permanence. And who can't use more of that, eh? A firm hold, a solid foundation. Permanence. The state of matter remaining as it always was, and hoping it always will. Having lived among humans for many years now, I've developed this habit of seeking it, and it suits me.
I was, dare I say it - thinking - and in pursuit of ways to make life more meaningful, find that all it takes is a firm grip on what other life forms need. I'm serious, think about how empty living would seem if we did only what was needed for ourselves. If we didn't water plants or feed birds or brush our grandmother's hair. Pretty ... sad.
To get the best results from life, seek fervently the intentions of others, and carry their burdens for a spell. It's a sure bet you'll never find reason to complain about your own silliness again!
I bid you goodness, until our next communion. "vigilo astrum"