The Meaning Of Life
As I have mentioned before, I am a seeker. I have always wondered about the hard stuff. Is there really a god? Does that teacher really know what he is talking about? How many subatomic particles are there? Why is the human brain so complex? Why is the universe expanding in defiance of gravity? Why do Republicans exist? What is the difference between eukaryotes and prokaryotes and how can prokaryotes have flagella?
Vegetarian animals have their eyes more to the side of their heads in order to see predators, who have their eyes in front to see prey. Therefore, should humans always be carnivorous? What about biblical prophesy? Are these the last days? Is existential despair the true human condition? Is there enough time left to reverse global warming?
Do you see what I mean? I have lots of questions and not many answers. In my college days an art major and I were scrubbing wax off the baseboards in the student center during semester break. I asked him about the meaning of life as artists always have a different vision about the nature of things. His reply? “ Everything is what it is.” We’ll, yes, but not very satisfying. Artists look and render what they see. I look and wonder why?
This defect of my character has led me to seek out those people and traditions who purport to know the answers. I was raised a nominal Methodist. I found only felt figures on a felt board. I did like the doxology, but hated the jello salads in the basement.
I had a profound period of existential despair after my mother’s death my junior year of high school. Camus, the Blues, and Tchaikovsky’s Sixth Symphony. Being afraid of girls was no help at all.
The winter of my senior year I was the wrestling team manager. I wasn’t much of an athlete (another reason for existential despair) so the wrestling team was great fun. I was able to help and even make a difference. The scourge of wrestlers is boils. Sliding on those mats means abrasion, and bacteria find their way into the skin. Evil, those boils. As team manager, I insured there were no boils because I kept the mats disinfected. No pus and blood on my watch.
There it is, the answer to despair. Stay engaged. I prevented boils, Camus enjoyed success with the ladies. There is almost always a way. Still, I sought. On a wrestling trip to Salt Lake I bumped up against the Mormons. I read, studied, listened, even dated a Mormon girl. One night during an attack of angst I realized I didn’t believe in that stuff.
I then embarked on a career as an agnostic, annoying all the believers I knew by challenging their beliefs. I continued my search with little success for quite a few years. I think I substituted addictions for having any meaning. If you are getting off, the need to keep it up takes over, even while knowing addiction is fruitless. I had read Kerouac.
Then, during a dark night of the soul after a divorce, I was living in a basement apartment in Lasalle Colorado with my black dog. I was working in the Greeley sewage disposal plant and the Maintenance Foreman was a deacon in an Assemblies Of God Church. I went to his bible study, prayed, and got saved. I asked Jesus in and felt this overwhelming feeling of being wrapped in love. I got involved, had many experiences of the Holy Spirit, the addictions went away for a year, and I thought I had found the Meaning.
But, life interfered, as well as knowing all that Fundamentalist stuff made no sense. I couldn’t stay with the holy rollers and ended up an Episcopalian. For me, my higher power manifests as Jesus. I couldn’t, however stay with the organized church. Churches are instruments of power and control, contrary to what Jesus taught. I did learn how to pray, and prayer is what grounds me. No answers to the Big Question, however.In fact, I think I have given up on finding the Meaning. It’s a mystery.
These days I practice Insight Meditation with all its Buddhist trappings. The good thing about Buddhism is that it does not purport to answer those questions. I fact, the Buddha mostly ignored all that stuff, saying the sole goal is to end suffering. With our big brains, we look for reasons. We think up explanations or buy into someone else’s explanation and create a world. Almost always the core of that world is desire. We want stuff, pleasure, a sense of belonging.
No way, dude. It is all illusion. Let it go and find emptiness. That emptiness harbors the true meaning, a sense of being one with the Universe. Well, I think so, anyway. I haven’t even come close. Maybe I need a Bodhi tree to meditate under.
My meditating has borne fruit. I am finding equanimity. I am less frustrated. I am less angry. I don’t feel as much despair. I have periods of true happiness. My addictions are losing their grip, especially if I do my part in my daily practice. Can’t tell you about the meaning of the cosmos, but my cosmos is more peaceful.
