Sunday, May 23, 2004

I've been reading books recently about destiny. I've always believed that life must have a purpose. I'm even ready to accept that each person has a specific individual purpose. But I realize that in the case of an individual purpose, I have no clue as to what mine might be. I have an idea of what people in general are supposed to do here on earth, though I am willing to admit that much may be lacking in my understanding of it, but if each person was made for a specific purpose, some reason that each one has to be here that belongs only to that one and no other, then I'm lost. There are things I have wanted to do in life. There are things I have wanted, which have been unattainable to me, or if they were attainable, then I had no clue as to how I might do so. Why must things in life be so complicated. Sometimes I just wish I were given a dream. Joseph had a dream, and though it didn't tell him where to go or what to do, it at least assured for him that he was somebody. But I get overwhelmed by all the people that are in the world, each with their own perspective, their own mind and their own "destiny". Perhaps. But I look around sometimes and see tons of people that I don't even know, who have never heard of me and have no connection to me, and they have things that are important to them, and they have their own stories to tell, and all of it together pales in comparison to the history of the world. I just seem so small and insignificant. Not that I need to be significant in the spectrum of all humanity and its history. But I at least need to feel that I have a certain place and purpose. Some reason that on August 20, 1980, my mother gave birth to me instead of some other guy (or girl). Perhaps there is no real purpose, just a bunch of people around, who just have to live life, and together try to fulfill the general purpose of humankind. I'd be willing to accept that, too, but that doesn't always sit right with me either. (real philosopher, right? I know "sit right with me" isn't exactly a logical epistemology). But suppose I have a certain purpose, I know there are some in the world who would tell me that deep down I know what it is, and it's just a matter of committing to it.
The other problem is the whole matter of achieving said destiny. Do I let life carry me along and just give in to whatever wind blows my way? Do I go with my feelings? My gut? Do I act when something "sit's right" with me? Do I work hard toward something I've thought long and hard about? Or do I just live life the way I'm supposed to live it, and expect that I'll end up in the right place and be the right person. I don't know. Maybe this is all a bunch of nonsense. Maybe I should just say, "screw it," and get on with my life. But if that means getting on with dissatisfaction, then I'd rather search for something else. Okay. Whatever the case, life goes on.

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