Essential Existence

So, in consideration of the previous post—which argues that I am of no matter to the universe—can my existence have any consequence at all? Maybe not to the cosmos, but my being here certainly means something to me. I matter to me, even if I'm infinitesimally unimportant to it all. My life is important to me—it’s all I’ve got—and if I try to make the most of it, it can also matter to those around me.

As I described in my last post, I believe it is useful for me to admit that my life is not the least bit essential to the universe—maybe no more so than a single bacterium on the end of my toe can mean to me; among the trillions of bacteria living on and within my body. We each are contingent—in the sense that while we do exist, there is no necessity for our existence.

So there is no reason for me to be. I just am. There's no plan, no destiny, no fate. I mean virtually nothing to it all, and yet I am privileged and fortunate to be a part of it all. I am a manifestation of the magnificent universe.

So what about this life can matter to me? That question has no definitive answer that fits every one of us. Meaning is a very relative term. One person's meaningful life is another's wasted life. So, taking a slightly different tack, by delving a bit more into the word “meaning,” my dictionary tells me that it can also connote such things as significance, value, purpose, worthiness, or being of consequence. 

Thus, a way that can bring meaning to my life, I believe, is to make the most of this gift of life I've been given, by seeking worthiness and fulfillment. To me, that means I can find meaning in things such as growing, learning, and helping others. If my life contributes to the welfare of those around me, I am helping my tiny corner of the cosmos to become a bit more healthy and enriched. Does that not bring some meaning into my life, if not also to others around me?

Here are some useful questions that I can ask, when contemplating the meaning of my life: Am I living my ideals? Do my ideals make sense? What can philosophical and spiritual traditions bring me, to increase the meaning of my life? How may I help others' lives to be more meaningful?

There are no final answers to these questions, and any answers I find will be different from those of others, and maybe different to me, next year. In the end, my life does mean something to me—if not to the cosmos. It's essential to me. And when I ponder these questions, the only consistent answer I encounter, is to do what I can to realize my full potential and then assist others. That can truly give my life meaning.

Inconsequential Existence

Each of us is inclined to believe that our existence matters—at least to ourself, if not to others. This is a way we may express that we want meaning in our life. Each of us naturally feels that our life has some significance; that it matters, if only because we are inclined, from our perspective, to believe that the universe revolves around us. We seem to be at the center of it all. That is the natural way we perceive our world.

In fact, that is the perspective of most creatures—particularly those who do not enjoy the attributes of a developed consciousness that we humans have. We, unlike other animals, have the ability to imagine getting outside ourselves, to take a more objective view of things. When we do so, we can do a pretty good job of understanding that other creatures—particularly those with a less developed consciousness—have a much more confined view of reality. Nonetheless, we can't help but view our world from a self-centered perspective.

If we ponder the vastness of the universe, however, we are forced to conclude that our individual existence is not at all of consequence to it. Consider first the physical scale of the universe. I am but one individual among billions (even trillions) of beings on planet Earth. Earth is but one planet among several that orbit our sun. Our sun is but one star among billions in our Milky Way Galaxy. Our galaxy is but one among billions of such galaxies in the universe. Add all those multiple billions up, and you can see that each of us is an infinitesimal physical snippet of our universe. So how can I be at the center of it all? How can I be of any consequence to this mind-boggling cosmos?

Let me demonstrate the minuscule nature of our existence even further: now in the time dimension. How does my life span compare to the age of the universe? I might be lucky enough to stick around for about 80 Earth years. The planet has been here for some 60 million times longer than that. And the universe has been around for about 170 million times longer than that. But my life gets even more negligible, if I peer into the future and come to understand that the universe is at present in its infantile stage. It may be almost 14 billion years old, but some astronomers estimate that our universe may last some 100 trillion years! It's just getting started. So, from a spatial or temporal point of view, my existence is so vanishingly small as to be completely inconsequential to the universe. I am not at the center of it all. 

So, what do I make of my insignificant relevance to the cosmos? To some people, this can appear to be a nihilistic message—my life is nothing... it is meaningless. I disagree. It's only meaningless if I have bought into the message that the universe was created solely for the pleasure of mankind—which is an extremely limited and self-centered point of view.

Rather than believe that I am at the center of it all and then feel devastated when I come to see that I'm not, I think it's far more meaningful to understand that I'm blessed to be a conscious part of something so vast and magnificent and to be able to know that. Let me celebrate my being here, and my ability to comprehend its majestic nature, even if I'm an inconsequential part of it all.

The next posting will consider my existence from the other side of the coin: If I am an inconsequential part of he universe, how can my life matter... at least to me, and what do I do about it?.

Explanation of Existence

Humans have perennially wondered about what is the meaning of their existence. Some typical questions we pose: What's it all about, Alfie? What's the meaning of life? Is there a purpose for it all? What am I doing here? Where am I going? 

These questions fall into the category of existential wonderings, and like many philosophical questions, there is no definitive, final, or universal answer for them. Depending upon one's belief system or perspective on life, several different responses to those questions can be offered. Here are a few—predicated on several different viewpoints.

The Theist: To follow the precepts and prescriptions of God's commandments and the instructions of priests; often to endure the vicissitudes of life's struggles, in order eventually to enjoy an idyllic and eternally blissful afterlife... if one is judged to have behaved righteously.

The Atheist: To accept the fact that there is no meaning to life (especially as described by theists) and that religious morals are baseless. One comes to value what can be acquired through the fulfillment of what the intellectual life has to offer; here and now.

The Naturalist or Pantheist: We simply are—including all animals and plants. If there is any meaning to existence, it is just to open to the wonder of the universe, realize our connection to it all, and revel in its beauty and our fortune to be alive and able to appreciate it.

The Eastern Philosopher: One's destiny and meaning is a function of one's ability to realize and act upon the messages taught by the ancient sages. One's full realization is found in aligning oneself with the harmony of the cosmos and seeking affinity with other beings.

The Western Philosopher: Meaning is found by seeking the insights of wise Western teachers who discovered deep truths about existence, and applying them to one's life, through the acquisition and appreciation of these truths, to guide one's choices.

The Western Capitalist: To acquire wealth and power and thus realize the pleasures of existence through control of one's destiny, without the need for assistance by the state or for widespread cooperation. Life is a competitive, individual win/lose game.

The Marxist: To educate the masses about their exploitation by capitalists, so they will rise up and cast off the yoke of oppression. The masses can then realize a fulfilled, peaceful existence, by gaining control of their lives and participating in an equal society.

The Hedonist: To revel in the pursuit of pleasure and to enjoy sensual self-indulgence. To luxuriate in the delights of libidinous existence, unconcerned about the future.

The Poor: Simply strive to survive today, with little ability to ponder the meaning of existence.

Jerry Garcia (lead guitarist for the Grateful Dead): To have fun.

What’s It Mean, Alfie?—Part 2

Driving down the road one day, I was almost involved in an accident. Had I been driving one mile per hour faster or slower, things could have been entirely different. I may either be dead or not even know I could have had a close call. Someone buys a lottery ticket and wins big money. A ticket purchased just before or after that winning one lost. A gust of wind blows down a tree in my yard and just misses the house. Were any of these events predictable? Could they have been foreseen? Even in the aftermath, can we attribute any causal factor to them? Mightn’t it be a copout to say, “Well, I guess God didn’t want my number to come up just then”?

Sure, for many of the things that happen to us, we can connect the dots and see a causal relationship with something that happened earlier. I possibly wouldn’t have luckily avoided that car accident if I had been driving faster. If I had cut down all the trees around me, I could have avoided them being blown down on my house. If she hadn’t even bought that lottery ticket, she’d have had no chance of winning.

So we have a tendency to seek meaning in things when there often is none. Unforeseen events don’t have to have some law governing them or some significance to them. Why was I born who I am and in the circumstances I was? Why was I not born into a starving family in Africa? Why was I born with this birth defect? Is there any reason for these happenings? Why can’t they just be?

The story of Job comes to my mind when I ponder these things. Why do bad things happen to good people? Or the opposite question: Why do some bad people get away with their evil activities? Is there no justice in this world? We want all the loose ends to be tied up in the final scene of our life—as in a Hollywood movie. We want meaning; we demand accountability.

That attitude can lead to a lot of angst and anger—emotions that can often be avoided by simply accepting what is. If we give up the demand to know why things happen and accept not always knowing; if we can live with the mystery, we can unburden ourselves of a lot of trouble. Rather than fret over how or why something just happened—as we sit transfixed with either horror or glee—we might better put our attention and energy into intelligently responding, before the next contingency comes along and smacks us upside the head unawares.

I’m by no means arguing that we should simply believe life is one random event after another, and that we have no control over it. It’s a balance. It’s a paradox, even. Somewhere between life having no meaning (no reason, no purpose, or concluding it’s random) and its every detail being planned and caused by some external power, is a happy balance where I dance with life and make the most of the great mystery.

           

What’s It Mean, Alfie?—Part 1

We humans, being the rational and reasoning creatures we think we are, are inclined to look for—and even read—meaning into events that happen to us. Less cognizant animals take what comes along and deal with it as best they can—without examining and probing it, or seeking explanations for why it happened. When a hawk attacks a songbird, the little critter does not fret over why he’s being assaulted, or if he is being punished for some transgression he recently committed—he just responds and tries to get the hell out of the way.

Our ability to generate an understanding of the cause and nature of events has given us a huge advantage over all other creatures on this planet. It allows us to learn and to come to comprehend our world like no other being. It has allowed us to become as successful and dominant a species as we are.

Yet this inclination to seek meaning in things also leads us to experience much angst and suffering; as well as leads us astray, when we err in our attempts to explain events. We read things into experiences when often there is no explanation for why they happened. We’re uncomfortable not knowing why something occurred, so we make up reasons. We want to believe in continuity—we want to see coherence in life, we want there to be purpose to things. We want to feel that we are in control of our lives or that a greater power is leading us, so things that happen do so for a reason.

If we can’t explain the cause for an incident, we will look to something or someone else to describe its message. We seek out a wise person or a guru who can pronounce why it happened. Some of us reason that God has a plan and thus caused this thing to happen, even though we can’t grasp why. We might simply conclude that “God works in mysterious ways,” or that the meaning will come to us in the future. Hang in there, have faith… the reason will soon become clear.

The truth is that most of the things that happen to us are not predetermined, nor do they arise because they were the logical result of some earlier event, nor is there a reason for them. Despite our tendency to look for causal relationships and continuity between the past and the present, most occurrences are really coincidental in nature. There simply is no way to foresee them happening. There are so many forces operating beyond our comprehension or control that are at play in our lives, that we can’t begin to know what they are or what they do.

More meaning next time…