Does anyone feel as though life is giving them a compelling reason to be here? I mean, aren’t we all just plodding along through minor ups and downs waiting for something more meaningful to happen?
(…and secretly, don’t we all know that it never does?)
I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m looking for or where I think I will find it or even if it exists. I think somewhere deep down inside, I know that it doesn’t. I can’t make everyone happy. I can’t save the world.
Nobody can save the world. Because to “save the world” is a meaningless concept. It implies some kind of theology, some kind of meaning, some kind of God. So far, such things haven’t proven helpful… and anyway, I can’t bring that to the world. I can’t create a meaningful God. Even God, in any of his many forms, in any of the millions of incarnations in which humans see him, can’t create a meaningful God.
There is nothing, nothing anywhere other than merely… “us.”
But we can’t admit that to ourselves, because then none of the suffering really matters any longer. Because then there is no incentive to make things better.
But really… what is the incentive? Why should I care?
Why do I care?
I know only that I do. And that it is difficult… and that I wish sometimes that I didn’t.