Things were looking bleak. Almost all of my days seemed wasted and wondering, in and out, bobbing and weaving through life without a clear focus. The future was of little concern, tomorrow would take care of tomorrow. Well, not exactly, maybe that summary is a bit skewed or a gross oversimplification. True confession, maybe I was just scared. No maybe’s about it, I was scared but didn’t want anybody to know it, least of all me. Maybe, that is how most of us live our lives.
Then one day
in 2012, at age 67, I bought a house. Focus had arrived. No longer was the
world and my place in it an overwhelming concern. No longer was the weight of
the world seemingly on my shoulders. There was only one concern, all by myself,
it was me and my house against the world, nothing else mattered. Why then or why now? Why a house? Who
knows? My wife Karen used to say in times like these, no one knows the answer but
“the stars and their courses”. There is a reason for everything but some things
will ever be a mystery.
Therein lies
our frustration. Life is so unpredictable and confusing, so much so that the life
that you and I have been given is simply gory. We are told by some voices that the
where or when of our being deposited into this world matters little but our experience
tells us that most times it matters a whole lot. The contradiction is grotesque. In some worlds there are no
good choices.
Sooner or
later we have to engage the facts of life, life is about dying. Choosing about
how we should live is about choosing how we shall die. That big picture is the
search for meaning that has always been and ever will be a life and death issue. We
shall discover meaning in this life when we stare down the rabbit hole of death, regardless of our history, and then look upward. All the other stuff about living is mere window dressing.
