WHAT'S THE MEANING OF LIFE?

I've always wondered what the meaning of life is. And I guess that's sort of a loaded question. But if you know me, you know that the answers to all of our questions are much less important to me than the questions themselves. But this question, in this day and age, might need some investigation.

Let's do a simple breakdown of the question, or more of a breakdown of the key words in the sentence. First off, there's the word "meaning". "Meaning", as a noun is the message that was intended, or the idea that is intended. As a verb, it's defined as have in mind a purpose or to have as a logical consequence. Let that sink in for a few minutes, we'll get back to it shortly.

The next key word is "Life". The definition that I like is: the experience of being alive; the course of human events and activities. The course of human events and activities...hmmm. I like that.

So, the idea of life meaning something is the idea that the course of human events should have a purpose. That's what I'm getting at. What's our purpose? What's man's purpose? What's your purpose? What's my purpose? I can't speak for your purpose. I can guess on mankind's purpose, and then maybe that will lead me to my purpose. I promise I'm going somewhere with this. Swear to God.

My daughter Sarah will be four in a few weeks. Cute as a button and smart as hell. She loves music, art and Spongebob. She also loves candy, bologna and gravy (though not all at the same time). I wish I knew what makes her tick. I wish I knew what her purpose in life was supposed to be. I'm guessing here mind you, but I think part of her purpose is to give my life purpose. She and her older sister are mostly the only things I care about these days. But I'm a little more focused on this kid than I was on the first. You see, the first kid, to an idiot like me, is generally just one suprise after another. You're always guessing, never knowing what to do, to how the kid will react, what to think about her reactions when they don't go the way you'd thought they were going to go, over thinking, over analyzing, over reacting to most situations. But with the second kid, you know what to expect, you know what to listen for and what to wait for and how to do things better on the first try. I guess on the second kid you just feel like you have more control over the whole situation. So guessing through the first kid makes it easier to understand the next one. And so I think that I can do more for Sarah's development than I did for Hannah's at that age.

So the meaning of life is to help make our kids better than we were? That's a start but it's not the full picture. Maybe the meaning of life is complex. Maybe it's more than what we think it is. Maybe it's searching for ways to leave our mark on the world. Maybe at the end of our lives, if the meaning wasn't completely clear through the journey, then what resonates after our lives is what it should have been. If I don't do one spectacular thing, and if I don't have one thing that becomes my life's work, my life's purpose, then maybe that was the purpose. Maybe it's not just one or two or three things. Maybe when I'm dead at 62, and someone I knew in life takes a look at the life I lived, maybe then they'll see why I was here. My collection of thoughts, my efforts with my kids, the social indentations I made on those I came into contact with over the years, maybe all those things add up to a body of work that when it was going on seemed to be unconnected. But when viewed as a big picture body of work, maybe then my purpose for living will become clear.

The first twenty years of my life can really only be labeled as fun. The next 19 years could be labeled as work. I want the next twenty years to be labeled as interesting. I want to do and say and write things that resonate, that leave an impression. My goal is to be more interesting, to do the things that need to be done, to say the things that might go unsaid, to think the thoughts that no one else will, to ask the questions that need to be asked. I need to philosophize more and question more and act more.

The next twenty years will take me to my late fifties. I intend for those years to be interesting. I intend to take more adventures, and I intend to cut a deeper groove into the soil that I walk upon. If I'm lucky enough to make it to the twenty years after these next twenty, I want them to be more interesting, more wild, more caveman than all of my years prior to those. I want to retire in flames, to age with fierce intensity, to do things and go places no one ever expected of me.

And in the end, when I'm laying there on the slab, and the preacher talks about who I was and what I did, and how I lived, he'll have more to talk about than the fact that I was funny or charming or loved my kids. I may not change the world like Jonas Sark did when he found the cure for Polio, and I may not write a best selling novel like Stephen King did (so many times). But the stories they tell about me when I'm gone should be interesting, and poignant and funny and sad and filled with irony and twists and adventure. I intend to do things that I haven't done. I intend to fulfill my destiny as one who won't soon be forgotten. My life's purpose will be clear. My legacy will be interesting, my rememberances will be storied. And my children will tell stories that begin with "my dad always said" and "i remember when dad took me to..." and "dad loved to do....". And those around them will smile and say "I remember that, your dad was always saying or doing....". I will be remembered. And the meaning of my life will be revealed in the third act. Please stay tuned.