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Perfect Futility

Today I'm meditating on futility.  I get in strange moods sometimes.  Sometimes I look for a way out, like today, futility isn't an enjoyable emotion - especially when I know that there is nothing to be futile about.  I know that I have to accept everything the way it is - I can't really do anything about anything - so futility is the normal state of being.  Maybe that's why I have to meditate on it now and then.  Realize that the word 'futile' doesn't really have any meaning.  Things are as they are.  That's the only way they can be.  How can something be different from what it really is?  I think I'll just call that perfection.