We journey through life, each living out our lives, imparting as much meaning on to them as we possibly can, usually with little success. The people we meet, the times we cherish with them, and the hours spent wondering about our futures, where we are going, what we will do. We plan for events and things we wish to do with our time here, all the while pondering our purpose in life, each of us making life’s journey, never really understanding our true purpose. In moments of clarity we glimpse the void, life’s end, even at times we may long for release from the trials and tribulations which surround us on all fronts, but the urge for self preservation pushes us forward, into the daily grind, the pointless meaningless existence.
Some of us fill the void with thoughts of loved ones, others fill it with drink, some try the hedonistic life, all left without achieving their intended goal. What is it that each of us seek, this goal we reach for with all our might and yet always seems just beyond our grasp. I have heard that religion is the answer, the self delusions of priests and pastors, calming their flock of sheep before the slaughter. What sense of purpose do we seek, family? Friends? Work? Education? Pay and just compensation for time worked? Do any of these things matter? If one found success in just one, or all, would they find what they are reaching for? Some In old age, finally become content with life’s end, the end of the road, some cling to life, other willingly allow deaths sweet release to overcome them, passing into the eternal slumber.
We are born, we grow up, we live our lives, we grow old, and we die. It is the way of every man and women. Some burn bright and life short lives, others grow old and gray, yet even in this we call it life. Where is the purpose? Where is the honor? Where is the mark for others to strive towards? There is no honor in old age and death. No honor in the slow crippling effects of terminal illnesses. The short lives did not make their mark, they were unready, barely out of the nest. But this is the fate of many. To be born, short lived, and dead before anyone knew their name. To be born into death is the greatest of mysteries, for what purpose does this bring, but sorrow and torment, the questions and thoughts of what could have been. Lives stolen by our so called Creator.
This begs the question of why. Why do we persist, out of habit? What makes you dear reader believe that you should live, what is it that drives you? What do you think you will accomplish that will give you purpose? What is your reason for being? You live for your children? And what of them? Will their breath cease when you have passed or will life make arrangements for them as well? One cannot understand life until you have reached the end, looked over into the void beyond, and smiled. Knowing that this is the resting place for all who make the journey. What purpose is life, then to reach it’s natural conclusion, death. The purpose of life is to die, death gives meaning to any otherwise unfulfilled life. Without an ending, the story does not matter. In happily ever after, life’s end is mandated for every prince and princess.
I will say, that it is how we lived our lives that mattered. Did we give everything we could possible? Did we live life to the fullest extent possible? Did we push ourselves until we could not push further? Did we find true unconditional love? Happiness and acceptance by those whom we truly love and care for. Did you ever give up on a dream, and pass up the chance to really live life, to be better then we are. Life is short for many, why honor their memory with failure. When we find true love, why not fight for it no matter the consequences. When we discover who we are, accept this, and allow other to accept who you are, or let them part company.
The void speaks to us, it says hello my dear friend are you ready yet? It’s up to each of us stand for who we are, for who and what we love, fight for it, die for it, and give our lives meaning and purpose in death. Any other way would be life without honor.