What is the point of life?
It's such a depressing question, really. It's almost like we search and search because we can't just be here for nothing. I used to say the point is to be happy. Not to find happiness. But to be happy. It wasn't enough. It didn't click / gel / fit. It's a question that bugs me and gets me really down.
The point of life cannot be to get married and have kids / procreate. It can't be to make lots of money. It can't be to be at peace because that's not the answer - that's the result of finding the answer.
And then yesterday, feeling really despondent (probably just because I have too much time on my hands because the schools are closed and I'm done working for the year), I went to see my dad for advice and told him that I just don't see the point of life. That there's just no point and why should I place value on anything I do if nothing even matters. I'm not manic-depressive, I don't have a mental disorder, but I was feeling depressed. There's a difference. I take my hat off to people who live with it and manage to rise for a new day, every day.
So my dad, once again, solved it for me. And the more it seeps into my mind the more sense if makes and obvious it is. It's a funny one because it's not a deep answer but it's the deepest answer.
We as people need to know the purpose, or even the function of humans or living things. We have to know. Otherwise we spend our lives asking: "What is the point?"
So my dad looks up and says to me: "There is a point. The point of life is living." Simple. Yet not that simple, if you really want to unpack it. The reason we are here is to live. It goes down to so many levels and yet is such a simple fact. It makes sense on every level, it's a reasonable and logical answer. It's not covered up in candy floss, it's not "out there". It's fact. And I needed that. And I accept that answer as my truth, as the truth.
Thanks, Dad.
