bplusultra

Last night I had a conversation with a good friend about the meaning of life. I told him the story about how my father had warned me as a child to "be careful of the questions you ask yourself. Life is like a catalog of lessons, and the way you place an order is to ask yourself a question. If you wonder about something enough, you will subconsciously put yourself in the position to learn about it."

As it turns out, my father's words became profoundly relevant to my life. Ironically, the thing I didn't understand, my burning question...was about him.

I watched my father slowly throw away his entire life, a good life...to drugs. My father was such a logical, intelligent man and it made no sense that he had no desire to capitalize on his potential. Weird thing is, when I got a little older I followed him right into that strange world he lived in. I completely went against everything I knew as a child and became a raging drug addict/dealer. I was known in those circles as being especially "hardcore" and many people thought I had a death-wish. I did. I almost died three times. Near the end, I had lost EVERYTHING and completely (it seemed) ruined my chances for any kind of normal life. Colleges didn't want me, hell the military didn't even want me anymore.

Then one day something happened. I was getting ready to rest after a three-day bender that involved activities like stalking the paper delivery person and ambushing him, convinced that he had been following me. I smoked some bedtime meth and pulled the covers up, closing my eyes. Something snapped. My thoughts quickly whipped up into a frothy ball of existentialism that got stuck on the age old questioning of the "realness" of reality. I reasoned that if everything in reality was subject to perspective, then nothing can exist which is outside of what we already know. Therefore, there is no purpose to life because it's all imagined. I wasn't suicidal in the classic sense, just in a philosophical sense, in fact I talked to everyone I knew for about three days, attempting to get someone to prove my logic wrong. Unfortunately, the logic of this thought seemed pretty solid.

Just as I was feeling like a cell who's genetically written lifespan had expired, my fathers advice jangled its way into my troubled head. I realized that I had done it. I had a burning question about WTF was wrong with my dad, and sure enough, I had subconsciously put myself in the position to learn the answer for myself, and BOY did I succeed at that! I now had a clear understanding of EXACTLY wtf was wrong with my dad. I had graduated from this lesson and was now free to move on to the next one! Well, getting off the drugs wasn't that simple, but that's a good story for later.

The point is: This timely epiphany not only helped me to understand my own behavior, it showed me that there IS a purpose to life! It doesn't matter if its all an illusion or not, and trying to chart the boundaries of reality is just missing the point. Life is about lessons. Life is about filling up that wonderfull organ in your head. It's about feeling. Sharing. Expanding.

Just make sure you pick your questions wisely!