Where do you find purpose and meaning in life? Is there one? Do we create it, or find it? I’d love to hear your answers below.
This is something I’ve been pondering a lot as of late. Essentially the meaning of life.
Now, I should preface this by saying that in truth, I’ve always felt that the biggest answer to this lifelong question is to put it simply – love.
Many who may read that instantly will project from their experiences and thinking to equate that purely to romantic relationship get married, have kids.
There is far more to that though, isn’t there? To love, to be loved. To love life, to find love from life. To love your work. Work can even be a housewife who stays home with her children. Anyone who doesn’t equate that to work needs to ask a housewife if they can take over for a day, or a week.
There is love of life, material things, people, animals. Love of self. Love of friendships. Love of God. Love of music. Hobbies, art, on and on.
Love is a feeling. Love is also an action.
So when I say love in truth I refer to so many things and so few things at the same time. Many in this society have slowly degraded the idea of love in terms of people. In terms of romantic relationships. They’ve consumed the ideals that have slowly crept through that states we do not need another to exist. I did.
Look where that had gotten us. How many healthy relationships do you know? “Oh, it’s a different time. There are more options these days.” No. That again goes back to choice. The reason one could argue that my grandparents chose each other was lack of choice. But what if it wasn’t? Give my dogs more choices in toys and they don’t value any. It could very well be my grandparents didn’t have more choices, or not. I am never to know – you are never to know. To auto assume we do puts us into the place of an all knowing force. I know not all. Do you?
I heard Neil Degrasse Tyson recently say that the more a person knows, the more ignorant they become. Essentially the more I know, the more I don’t. I have to agree with that stance. We begin to have this idea that oh, I have tons of knowledge that you don’t, so I must be smarter. You ever try to take apart an engine and put it back together? You ever try to cook? You ever try to put a basketball through a hoop a certain distance away? You ever try your hand at caculus? Psychology? There are certain subjects we will be completely stupid in.
“Oh, well then you’re willfully ignorant.”
What I do not know, I do not know I don’t. So how then am I to know what I don’t? That’s the question, eh?
Similar to the people who say, “that sort of love doesn’t exist.” Because they haven’t seen it. They haven’t experienced it. So they are ignorant to it. They believe what they see on TV, the internet, a faux reality. I think it’s why some do find that sort of love. So some of us don’t buy into that. I know I saw it. I always refer back to my grandparents because of it. I have seen the type of love that makes life worth living.
That is the sort of thing that makes people feel prickly. They don’t like that idea. I’m not sure if it’s because it interferes with their ideology that it doesn’t exist, or they simply would have to face the fact that it does exist so why not them? Maybe another reason I’m not considering. I could only come up with so many paths at any time.
So as of late I have been really thinking about purpose and meaning. I know I have found writing to be a huge source of it. In my writing group I’m in, there was a point shared of them creating it. Therefore it gives life meaning through creating said meaning. For me, it is finding meaning in something. I could easily see myself also having created it – writing.
I began writing to save my life. Literally. I could not do anything else at the time. I was spiraling. PTSD was bonkers. Panic attacks were so bad that I considered hospitalizing myself to get them under control. I had zero control. But . . . I don’t believe in modern medicine for everything. It goes back to being disregarded, treated as though I knew nothing of my own body, not listening when I figured out the why of an issue, and then treated like a guinea pig on experimental medication.
So I was guided to writing my thoughts out, which became stories. I worked out my problems through characters. I analyzed their behaviors. In the same time I had to better the way I wrote.
Because newsflash – I was removed from school around 12 yrs old or 13. Halfway through 7th grade. Because of a stalker who tormented my school life, my daily life, and I couldn’t get away from him. No amount of police intervention did anything, not the court systems. My relief only finally came in the form of a very big German Shepherd at home, and then his father sending him to military school. To literally remove him from my world.
So I had to eventually go through a high school diploma program at home, go through a 9th – 12th grade level, business courses, and that continues to this day. When I can afford a course, I buy it. When I find a new subject I want to learn, I take the chance to learn all I can about it.
So when I began to write, that course was a very difficult path in grammar and the like. My brain struggles to process certain things. Writing is actually one. It takes me a lot of effort to fully get it in the noggin. Absorbing is how I seem to work best. I read good writing, I learn good writing, and somewhere in there pops out decent work. Which then my editor smacks me digitally for and says – I noticed you’re doing such and such. So I go back to trying to figure out why my brain isn’t comprehending it, and how to do it better.
Writing for me, has become a huge purpose to my life because it dragged me from a dark place, it does every time I sit down, and for some reason y’all seem to find even these blogs useful at times. Though it’s incredibly rare I ever have feedback and comments, I’d do it anyway. I think I have a literal need to. As most writers can say – it’s an addiction. It keeps me grounded, stable, and focused while I work out my character’s thoughts, and when I’m working out my own in the process. It’s why I psycho-analyze them on here. I need to find the why.
Why do they behave that way? What motivates them? It must have started as a child. Deep down I knew. Some part of me knew. I wasn’t being hurt because I was bad. I was being hurt because of something more. So as most kids with a traumatic event, I zeroed in on it to find out the why. And I found my meaning and purpose through it. To this day I always am on a quest of why.
Similar to a child who sees the parent murdered and goes into law enforcement, or the opposite.
Another meaning to my life and purpose, has definitely been embracing love. I, like most, was created in the world of “you don’t need anybody.” And “to love is weak.” When in truth it is the bravest thing you could do in your life. The biggest act of courage to love another when you have been hurt. Argumentative would love to throw in I’m sure that “you think that takes courage?”
As I’ve said, everything can be debated. For me? Yes. My entire life I have been shown that to love meant someone hurting me. To love meant someone abusing me. To love meant someone destroying my life. I was rarely hurt by strangers save for once the internet came about. Yup, I’m a dinosaur who lived before internet and cell phones. Imagine a life growing up where “love” meant abuse. Pure solid abuse. To love meant a slavery of sorts, it meant rape, it meant choking, it meant cruelty. It did not come unconditionally. It came with conditions and when those conditions were not met, it was taken away and you were severely punished.
To love another and give them your entire heart, to trust they will not hurt you. To protect your heart not as if it were their own, but better.
That takes a courage that yes, in this day and age is sorely lacking. That love is not conditional – it just is.
To want to be better for someone else sometimes is the push many need. Because either the hate for self goes so deep they don’t care. Or they simply cannot find it in themselves to believe making their life better is a good thing. Or maybe it is why for some they find that meaning in love. Because that was the motivation they needed. To be better for the other person. To be better for themselves so the other doesn’t suffer. That’s so simplistic and it’s hard to explain without the critics in my head tearing it apart.
What I’m basically getting at is none of us are the same. We don’t find our motivations in the same thing. We don’t find purpose in the same. We don’t find/create meaning in the same way. None of our lives are meant to be lived like other’s are. And to exist for another person isn’t wrong or bad. Maybe that’s what is keeping them breathing. Because many get so broke down to the very core of their being that they can’t see who they are. That all they see forward is to take their life. And when someone truly loves them for who they are and see even past that hurt and broken aspects to them?
The light finally begins to peak through. It’s not wrong. Life wants people to believe it because in this day and age the traditional family unit is looked down upon. Women who want to be housewives are seen as weak and simplistic. But if that fulfills someone? Who am I to say it’s wrong. Who are you? To be happy in this world and to find/feel love in whatever form it comes in for each of us?
Let’s input this for the critics – healthy love. Different from codependent/narcissistic unhealthy love. Mkay? Yes, I’m fully aware I constantly bring forth the critics. Natural in a writer’s head I think. Heck, a trauma mind too I’m sure. Insecure, lack of confidence, you name it.
Imagine that world. Insert
The Beatles John Lennon in my head. Imagine a world where people aren’t constantly attacking each other’s beliefs. Imagine a world where you have permission to be you just as you were created.
To believe in love. To want love. To believe in God. To want to. To believe there is none and that’s okay. To believe in anything if is truly makes us happy down to our soul, it doesn’t hurt others, and it makes us better humans to one another. And then we spread that outward?
Try and imagine a world where we don’t divide and attack, but forgive and just love. “oh that’s weak, you’ll be taken advantage of.” You’ve lost the entire point then. Strength comes from vulnerability.
I heard a story recently (think it was on YouTube and ancient civilizations stuff) about one of the greatest conquerors back in the day. He was incredibly kind to people, even those he planned to conquer (or had?). And he just happened to be one of the greatest conquerors? One source I found that doesn’t need an email to read – https://overviewbible.com/cyrus-the-great/
I’m sure if someone knows the bad he did, they’ll wanna link it and blast it. How quick people are to only want purity these days while also being quick to ensure they destroy it. I’m certainly not 100% pure, good, kind, and without fault. This why I’m not on reality TV, lol. You?
So he treated people with kindness, which is essentially love for even his enemies, and he was one of the “greatest”?
Worth thinking about.
Where do you find purpose and meaning in life? Is there one? Do we create it, or find it?
I’d love to hear your answers below.
Today’s numbers for Sofrir & Pheirgr of Atalantius Omega III.
Started the book – June 27, 2021
Word count last post – 55,500 words
Current word count as of today – 59,544 words
Total words written since last update – 4,044 words
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