Why do we do what we do? That’s one of those questions my peeps hate to ask. Aaron in particular. He wants the white picket fence, three kids, and the leave it to beaver lifestyle. So he’s been saying for the past three or four years. I didn’t buy it then and I don’t buy it now.
He’ll read this a month from now and post some comment about how he pictures me in seclusion, lighting candles and writing poetry. Funny guy. I’m not quite that dramatic (shut it, Nathan – like how I mentioned your name and yet you get no link? Your mom).
Three thousand years ago, Solomon had it right when he said that everything is utterly meaningless and futile. He tried everything, and came up empty. Whether you work hard or not at all, whether you’re rich or poor, starving or overfed, ultimately it doesn’t matter.
There are a lot of underachievers who will read this and think, So what? I’ve always thought life was pointless. That’s why I don’t do anything. That’s not the same thing. Lazy ex-pot smokers aren’t exactly equal to good ol’ Sol.
I am notorious for my insistence upon meaning and purpose. I annoy the hell out of friends, family, and total strangers with my rants about pursuing purpose. I hate seeing people waste potential. I love watching people and guessing their deep purposes and callings. See, everyone has one, even the annoying people who hate hearing that and who feel the need to violently argue against the concept.
So how does a person like me believe in the simultaneously contradictory beliefs that life is utterly meaningless and that each person has a unique calling and purpose to fulfill? That’s an easy one. Logical or not, I’m simply disillusioned by how freakin’ hard life can be. I’m not very patient. I’ve been known to be a bit anxious. Picture someone spending an entire decade anxiously flittering to and fro like a speedfreak in an attempt to achieve his purpose, and you have a fairly accurate understanding of my life a few years ago.
My “meaningless” isn’t the same as Solomon’s. I think I actually know my calling – my God-given purpose for living. I believe that I have things to do before I die. I have ways to mature. It doesn’t matter if you think it’s a ridiculous notion. You’re bored and miserable sometimes as you go to sleep at night because you feel empty. You feel empty because you’ve yet to realize what that thing is that will make your life truly meaningful.
Yeah… It’s late, and I should be asleep. Consider yourself thoroughly scolded or chastised or whatever fits. I’m out.