My Meaning of Life
As one who studied philosophy and theology for 6 years and who should have some idea to hold onto regarding the "meaning of life", I wish I could cut through all the blarney and big words and give it to you in a teaspoon, like our mothers gave us cough syrup. There are literally mountains of books by writers far smarter and wiser than I who have tried to explain. Philosophers, theologians, bishops, popes and sinners have all grappled with the meaning of it all. I may have studied it, but that don't mean I got it.
It's early morning in Kitschland, the place is dark except for the snoring of Whizzbang, and the trundling of a cat. I have lived six decades and this is my Meaning of Life. I reserve the right to change it tomorrow.
Our universe is wildly chaotic. It appears indifferent, uncaring, random and by happenstance. Scientists, in fact, tell us everything is in constant movement. The universe is drifting, shifting and everything with in it is too. Like tectonic continents separating and floating to other places, our galaxy is too. How does one make sense of all that? This is where religions place a Prime Mover, or a God, to give us the assurance that even in a universe of chaos, there is order. And that is fine for those who believe, who take succor in the thought of a managing stage director, no insult intended.
In fact, this is as good a place as any to tell you, while you are eating your Cinnamon Life cereal and coffee this morning, that my Meaning of Life is different than yours. To add to the universes chaos now you must grapple with the notion that there is no one monolithic Meaning, but, instead, individual ones, depending on your thoughts, beliefs, and life system. Met-killer Bernie Madoff, likely had a very different meaning than mine. What do you want to bet that it contained some kind of "accumulation clause"? If we all had the same Meaning, then religions wouldn't be created and philosophers would be stocking shelves at Wal-Mart. If everyone has an index finger, index fingers are no longer worthy of much discussion. Money may be one's meaning, drugs, sex and rock-and-roll another. I don't pretend to know every ones, and I won't say mine is best, although drugs, sex and rock-and-roll ain't a bad one. But I digress. Back to my Meaning of Life.
So the universe is a mish-mash of moving chaos. Now, like my Nikon looking at a bird, zoom in. Me, you, we, us: are part of this universe. So, when we create our Meaning, we create meaning for the Universe. When we take a motorcycle ride to Wisconsin, or sit by a bonfire on a crisp autumn night with the stars overhead, or achieve something that give us purpose, it is the universe itself having purpose. When we feel joy, love, pain and a connectedness to each other and nature, we are connected to the universe. If the universe was created by a Big Bang, then we, as individuals, wield a mighty but very much smaller Bang ourselves. Yeah, go ahead and shout. You are the Small Bang.
Our meaning of life is what is meaningful to us. What is meaningful to me is my meaning of life. I will do whatever I can to make the world, the universe, a better place. My babysitting my granddaughters helped our family and, I like to think, them. When I see them and one gives me a big girl hug goodbye and the other cries and won't let me leave, that is meaningful to me. For thirty years at the Mary Davis Home I attempted to give at-risk kids my ear and tools to help them navigate their emotions and setbacks. That was meaningful to me. My time here is finite, and getting finiter, and the world is cruel, indifferent and mean. What I can do in my small little introverted way to help make it all less so, is meaningful to me.
I don't go to organized church and yet I admire those who do. Organized religion would have you think that real meaning is obtained only through them. W.C. Fields exclaimed while reading the Bible on his deathbed "I'm looking for a loophole." Aren't we all, Bill. I don't think that real meaning is had through church or its precepts. Religions promise eternal life if you adhere to their precepts. If you don't, then you go to Hell. That kind of punishment/reward system seems pretty severe to me. There is a lot of good out there, and I can't help feeling that every little thing we do on the "good" side of the ledger, helps balance everything out. You certainly don't have to attend church every Sunday to be good. One of my favorite philosophers, Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, said that humankind was evolving into a purely Good state. Eventually we would reach a place where we would no longer need our skin and bones and simply float with all the other Goodness in a kind of ethereal Goodness encompassing the universe. Man, what were you smoking, Pete? Imagine: name-dropping W.C. Fields and de Chardin both in one paragraph.
Science tell us that we are mere molecules, monkey's cousins. Star stuff that will turn to dust, and with time, part of the universe again. Existentialists believe there is no meaning in life. In fact Francis Crick, one of the co-founders of DNA said "...your joys and your sorrows, your memories and your ambitions, your sense of personal identity and free-will, are in fact no more than a vast assembly of nerve cells and their molecules." OK, so I am a dirt clod. I am stuff of stars, from that single event that started all this. But I am a dirt clod that thinks. That moves, that has thought and can do things. I am a conglomeration of sinew, veins, water and star dust that is here for a short while and knows it is doomed. I look in a mirror and the Cosmos looks back. When I laugh the Universe laughs. When I cry, the Universe weeps.
My meaning within all of that sinew, muscle meat and primordial glop is to live well and do as much good as I can. When I sit at a backyard bonfire in BFE and look up, it is a reflection of me. I experience enjoyment doing things that make me happy - that is living. A beer with friends, a bike ride, a hug from the kids. And I am happy when I am doing good. The meaning of life is to do things...meaningful? Huh. I am the Universe experiencing itself - a micro Cosmos who is alive. Bang Loud!
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