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Do not be overrighteous, neither be overwise— why destroy yourself? (Ecclesiastes 7:15-16)
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It's an incredibly exciting thing, this one, meaningless life of yours. (Tim Minchin)
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Although this bit from Ecclesiastes suggests that our lives are meaningless, unless I'm taking that out of context, it is clear to me that my life is meaningful. I was talking to someone the other day about Life. That's Life
with a capital L. We were generally astonished that life exists at all, astonished that the tissue inside of our head can remember, create, maintain a
unique personality, direct our physical bodies, feel emotion. If you
think about it for a moment, the ability to think about it for a moment is utterly remarkable. And surprising.
Life. With this extraordinary state of being, alive, we represent something utterly exotic as far as we know in the everythingness of the universe. (I am certain that there is life elsewhere in the cosmos; at this point we have no evidence of that.) But that is not to say that life literally has meaning.
MY life has meaning. Yours does. That meaning is whatever we make of it. When we do good, when we seek knowledge, when we forge connection, when we create, when we dedicate ourselves to a goal, when we recognize our influence on others, when we live with grace, then we are creating meaning in our own lives. Being human brings about the very human experience of existential angst, of distressing over the basic questions of existence, of meaning, and of purpose. I am certain that the majority of thinking people on this planet must come to grips with their own mortality at some point.
A hundred years ago when I was a believer I experienced a good deal of existential angst, angst that no idea of an afterlife could comfort. In fact that afterlife idea made it harder to assign any true meaning to my life, to this life, to my sense of self. It's likely that the angst was a part of that time of my life rather than a result of any Christian belief, but the belief did nothing to comfort it.
I have learned that living this life gives our lives tremendous meaning and joy!
I have learned to embrace this moment.
Life. With this extraordinary state of being, alive, we represent something utterly exotic as far as we know in the everythingness of the universe. (I am certain that there is life elsewhere in the cosmos; at this point we have no evidence of that.) But that is not to say that life literally has meaning.
MY life has meaning. Yours does. That meaning is whatever we make of it. When we do good, when we seek knowledge, when we forge connection, when we create, when we dedicate ourselves to a goal, when we recognize our influence on others, when we live with grace, then we are creating meaning in our own lives. Being human brings about the very human experience of existential angst, of distressing over the basic questions of existence, of meaning, and of purpose. I am certain that the majority of thinking people on this planet must come to grips with their own mortality at some point.
A hundred years ago when I was a believer I experienced a good deal of existential angst, angst that no idea of an afterlife could comfort. In fact that afterlife idea made it harder to assign any true meaning to my life, to this life, to my sense of self. It's likely that the angst was a part of that time of my life rather than a result of any Christian belief, but the belief did nothing to comfort it.
I have learned that living this life gives our lives tremendous meaning and joy!
I have learned to embrace this moment.
To value human connection.
To love the people we love.
To apologize.
To make good.
To do good.
To love the people we love.
To apologize.
To make good.
To do good.
To do better tomorrow.
To try new things.
To open myself up to experiences.
To take care of myself and to do healthy things.
And most importantly, to feel JOY at every possible moment.
I am going to offer my view on things, a view that might be surprising.
I notice that people who embrace an afterlife are not, in fact, comforted by it. Just the opposite, really. With this belief of an afterlife, not only are they hopeful of that eternity, they are also dramatically fearful of losing it and wildly overwhelmed with the possibility of being in an eternal, heavenly afterlife without other loved ones. Petrified to their bones of missing out on this eternity. Fearful.
To try new things.
To open myself up to experiences.
To take care of myself and to do healthy things.
And most importantly, to feel JOY at every possible moment.
I am going to offer my view on things, a view that might be surprising.
I notice that people who embrace an afterlife are not, in fact, comforted by it. Just the opposite, really. With this belief of an afterlife, not only are they hopeful of that eternity, they are also dramatically fearful of losing it and wildly overwhelmed with the possibility of being in an eternal, heavenly afterlife without other loved ones. Petrified to their bones of missing out on this eternity. Fearful.
I
feel absolute wonder about life, especially about this life of mine. When I think about the lives I was living fifty years ago, forty years
ago, thirty years ago, twenty years ago, ten years ago, it thrills me to
see what life will be like in ten years, twenty, thirty...
I want more of it: This one meaningless life spent seeking wisdom, love, hope, goodness, kindness, humor, creativity, a noble existence, and world peace.
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I want more of it: This one meaningless life spent seeking wisdom, love, hope, goodness, kindness, humor, creativity, a noble existence, and world peace.
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Life, against all odds, it finds a way
Your thoughts?
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