Illumination: Writer’s Challenge
What is my true meaning of life?
As I see it.
A BA Cumberlidge and Timothy Key combined writing prompt. This one required a lengthier walk through my garden. A more studied look at the rocks and flower pots. And moment’s chat with my Elm tree in the corner. She’s always been rock steady when I needed her in the past.
Let’s start with the basics. What is Life?
In general terms most people believe that they have one, as if it was something to possess. Like a new Hyundai or John Deere lawnmower. But is it?
Is it something we can use, like a bicycle, 3D printer or deep-fryer? And like most possessions, does it come with a written warranty? Can we send it in for repairs, a refund or credit against a new one?
Are lives transferable or can they be used as collateral against a jumbo loan? For a new house, say or a McDonald’s franchise?
People often refer to life in the third person, as in: His life sucks. Or Her Life is falling apart. As if their life is wholly separate from the person themselves. They have one, whether they like it or not. Are often at odds with it and seem content in trading it in for someone else’s. But it’s not them, is it.
So, what is life?
For me, Life is not a person, place or thing. It doesn’t come in natural colors or fabrics. It cannot fit into a shoe box, a closet or the Rose Bowl. And if you could hold it up against a bright light, there would be nothing there to view.
Life is the by-product of a beings’ constant attempts at creating a perfect existence. It is everything ever done and will be done, and yet all the things we might obtain and leave behind at the end of it, are useless in determining if we lead a good life or a bad one.
The true meaning of life is love and compassion. The ability to be humble and selfish, forgiving and vengeful. It is every emotion ever felt and none of them. Life is who we are and what we do and how much we share it with others. It’s the kiss on a baby’s cheek, the slap to a man possessed of greed and hate. It’s the lending of a hand to someone you don’t like, because what you think or they think simply doesn’t matter.
It’s being in any instant, exactly what you need to be, to create the effect the world needs at that moment in time.
Life is endless and eternal and yet it’s over when we least expect it.
The true meaning of life is that there isn’t just one. Every meaning is life. Every effort, every success and failure. Every written or spoken word. Every hurt caused or pain assuaged. Every life created and every one ended. It is everything and nothing and we’ve been doing this for so long that it’s become like a river constantly flowing in front of us, ceasing to be composed of minute drops, and becoming only a steady endless stream. And yet, it’s in those individual drops that life is found.
It’s in the moment just before the actual moment begins. When for a split second, we get to decide, to think the thought, engage the mind, move the body — or just wait. Let it pass and wait for a better one to come before we move forward.
For someone who thinks too much and worries the small stuff far too often, what I am writing here surprised me a little. I’m usually first in class, at overthinking, and under-appreciating what goes on around me — much of it actually created by me.
As a result, I sometimes miss a chance at laughter. To note the irony of a bee bouncing off the end of my nose, while I’m smelling the flowers. To lose sight of the smile among the furrows of age and concern in the faces I meet. I catch the happiness of a stranger’s dance step as it abruptly turns the corner and is out of sight.
The sound of a catchy tune, only as it leaves the parking lot while I was staring at my phone.
Perhaps that, in a way in the true meaning of life. Fuck the small stuff. Fuck the endless focus on being five minutes ahead of now, in the hopes of catching something really important before it happens, while missing everything “unimportant” that just did.
This notion that whatever we think will happen in the future, after great thought and considerable effort, will by sheer force of will, be better than what we have in hand right now.
Arrogance is an unwitting byproduct of this constant straining to witness the birth of the future. As if we, and only we, had a hand in its creation. That our seed, in whatever form is may take, brought this new reality into being.
Ah, shit, how often we have missed the mark at times? Been 5 minutes late. Two miles too far north; one day from meeting the love of our life. All because we were too busy to notice the elephant riding the unicycle on the back of the turtle, as it passed slowly by our window.
What is my true meaning of life? That it will never be what we want and will always be exactly what we need.
😊
I’ll use the same tags left behind by Timothy. Let’s see what others have in mind.
Eli Snow, Tree Langdon ♾️, Eashan Reddy Kotha, Paroma Sen, Keno Ogbo, Paul Myers MBA, Holly Jahangiri, P.G. Barnett, Charles Roast, Rasheed Hooda, Sherry McGuinn, Infinit, Uchechi Obasi, James G Brennan,
Joe Luca is writer and editor for ILLUMINATION and a published author and writer of children’s stories, short fiction, non-fiction articles, screenplays and poetry. Publications include Child’s Life, Children’s Playmate and others. There are some other articles below — have a read. And thank you for stopping by.
