Sorry you had to go, Grandma. The only difference between you and me is that we were born to different parents at a different time. I didn’t choose to be in this body and neither did you. So, for some reason, you died while I’m still here. It could have been the other way around, ya know? Why not? Why am I still here?
We’re all here for a moment. A moment in these bodies that we didn’t choose to be in. And it’s quite peculiar and ironic that only through time, as our bodies begin to get smelly and fail us, do we gain the wisdom that comes with old age and understand what the hell we’re actually doing on this planet.
I’m only alive and typing these words because my parents met each other and decided that they liked each other. And they were only alive because of their parents who hooked up. Not to mention all the millions of choices they made that led up to that babymaking. And it goes back to what? The beginning of time?!
I’m here and so are you because of trillions upon trillions of super tiny moments and choices and molecular reactions that happened over billions of years. Whoa.
And now after billions of years…Here I am. And here you are. Another creature. One of trillions. Seeing the world through new eyes. The way evolution wanted it to be.
So while I’m here and I say things and do things and fuck up and try to do something meaningful with my body, does it even matter? And when I get in excruciating pain and my body dies, will it even matter? I mean, we’re alive right? Isn’t that all nature wanted to do. It wanted to express itself through the physical. And it succeeds every single goddamn day.
When we look into each other’s eyes, I think we are just looking at ourselves. That we are reflections. You are me in another life. Whether a tree or a cow or a virus or a william. Is there really any difference? Does the human have more purpose than the mitochondria? C’mon I need those little green guys to stay alive!
I need plants. Bugs need plants. Anteaters need bugs. Every single living being is alive only because of something else. Life gives life. So, I guess, the nature of life, by it’s very design, is absolutely meaningful and purposeful. Even if it is here for a moment and then gone.
I’ll be gone in a moment. My heart might stop tomorrow. I’m a really imperfect being. I say stupid shit all the time. I fuck up a lot. Before I die, before my body starts to break down, I want to be an honest human being. I want to speak with strength and stability. I want to stand up for myself and other people and never be afraid.
I want to have a daughter and teach her honesty and strength and unconditional love. I want to build a farm for horses and alpacas and support animals.
I want to explore as much of the world as I can. I want to see the aurora borealis. I want to meet as many beautiful people as I can and talk with them as long as I can and hear their stories, learn what they love, and about the things that give them meaning. And I want to make them laugh.
And, I mean, if I don’t live to do all the things that seem meaningful to me, does that make my life any less meaningful? I don’t know. I guess, even to be here for a moment. To be here and to be amazed by it all is enough.
I want to always see the world through the eyes of a child. I want to always be amazed by life. To never miss it because I was working myself to death. Let me always find magic in the scratches in the sand. Let me always be amazed.
“The meaning of life is just to be alive. It is so plain and so obvious and so simple. And yet, everybody rushes around in a great panic as if it were necessary to achieve something beyond themselves.” – Alan Watts