I’ve been having some odd thoughts of death and reflection of life over the past few days. I’m trying, mostly with futility, to grasp what the purpose of our existence is – that is, as individuals. Here are some ideas:
- Contributing to the needy/less fortunate.
- Raising children to be good people.
- Tasting life and living it to it’s fullest.
- Gathering as much knowledge as possible.
- Mastering skill sets previously thought to be just “nice hobbies”.
- Being remembered in the tomes of history.
As a Deist, I do believe in some fashion of an postmortem reward based on the merits of our lives (probably not a traditional gold-paved-streets heaven, but rather reincarnation or some manner of ascension (I take comfort in the “not knowing” part of this)), but I also like to think that there must be something to this during our time here in this mortal life. Mostly, I’m imaging the following scenario:
A man is told he has a year to live. He cashes in his savings, learns a foreign languages, travels around Europe, goes Skydiving, and plays Santa at the local homeless shelter for the kids on Christmas. You meet this man in month nine or ten and he’s overburdened with depression… he doesn’t have much time left and he still hasn’t found the joy he thought he would.
I suppose this stems from my experience of “what next”. It seems only natural to always be in a state of “incomplete”… that no matter how good things get, we always wonder “what next?” It’d be a shame to continue asking that when there is no time to find out.
When can a man lie dying and be truly, completely, and unquestionably at peace?
At the moment, this is just the ponderable floating around in my noggin. I will think about and meditate upon this – if I reach any further thoughts, I will make sure to post them here, though I do not think it will be possible to actually reach a conclusion.