Due to “life” at the moment, I find myself (again) wondering what the meaning of life is all about. Everyone has a different concept and whilst there may be ways to “prove” and/or “disprove” certain theories, I believe no one truly knows the answer.
One person bravely told me that I had chosen to return to a living body and experience the life I am now living. Whenever I think of that statement I cringe. Why would I willingly put myself in the situations I’ve had to endure? Was it being suggested that I found myself sitting on a white cloud one day, looking down at the world, and thinking to myself how great it would be to live a life of constant struggle? Or maybe, wouldn’t it be a great experience to loss a child to suicide? Or, I wonder what it would feel like to be knocked down…over and over and over again?
Aside from the fact that this theory sounds completely stupid to me, what would be the point of chosing a life like this, especially if I didn’t know what I was meant to be learning from the experience. Why would I do that to myself? As I said before, it would be crazy!
I don’t know how we came into being, or what the purpose of us being here is. Maybe there’s not a purpose. I don’t know why some people are handed everything on a silver platter, while other people struggle to make ends meet for their entire life (no matter how hard and long they work). What I do know is that the first part of our life goes on forever and then, in a blink of an eye, the years ahead of us are very few compared to the years behind us. And, the things we accomplished in those years are nothing compared to the dreams we once had.
I sat with my closest friend on the weekend. We were in a public place, surrounded by many people. We sat watching the people go about their business and my friend turned to me and said the exact thing I had been thinking, “we are nothing in this world and if we were to disappear forever, no one would really care”. Of course, that is not entirely true. Some people would care – our parents, our children, our few friends – they would care, but in the scheme of things it isn’t much when a person has only a handful of people who would truly grieve for them.
My mother told me once that she couldn’t afford to give up life. I thought that was a strange thing to say and was shocked at her answer when I asked her what she meant by a statement like that. She told me that she didn’t want the embarrassment of having less than a dozen people at her funeral, so she couldn’t afford to let go until she had lots and lots of friends. That conversation occurred many years ago, my mother is now in her 70’s and her friend list isn’t much different to then. Now I can relate to what she’s saying and, I must admit (as morbid as it sounds), we’ve laughed over the thoughts we have when we think of our own funerals.
But I don’t mean to sound morbid. Maybe it’s the mood I’m in now that another blow has hit me fair in the chest. What can I say? I wish I knew why humans lived, but would knowing change anything – make things better, easier? I don’t think so. Today, my son asked me what the point of anything is. I couldn’t give him an answer, except to say that we should try to look for happiness in whatever we do. It didn’t seem much of an answer and I knew that it didn’t help him in his time of need, but what else could I say. I feel as disillusioned as he does, but as his mother I had to hide that fact and look for something bright in the future.
The sun might warm our bodies, but the brightness it gives off doesn’t always light our way. I believe wondering about life, reasons and purposes is useless in the long term. It doesn’t get us anywhere. It doesn’t give us anything. We would be better off finding a glimmer of hope today so that this afternoon and tomorrow will be worthwhile.