The Meaning of it All

I’ve been speaking with friends of mine about why life seems so challenging much of the time, and through a circuitous route, we ended up with a number of conclusions, none entirely satisfying. People’s theories ranged from, “none of this is real” to “your outer world is a reflection of your inner world” to “suffering and struggle are necessary” to all theories in between. 

Even those of us who put lots of attention on the meaning of life seem baffled most of the time. No amount of our intricate story-weaving really even touches the mysteries of life nor answers our demands for an explanation.

I’ve always cultivated a fantasy that somewhere, sometime I would meet someone who would tap me on the shoulder and point me in the direction of the Truth. That like Dorothy and her friends in the Wizard of Oz, the man behind the curtain would be outed.

I suppose the not-knowing is what keeps life interesting and magical. The uncertainty keeps us in the game. But, and most would agree, sometimes, it is just all too much. Sometimes, I’m just tired. Moving through the density of the 3-D feels like a trudge through the mud, and once in a while—without the help of mind-altering substances or the nightly out of body forays of the dream state—I’d like to have the sensation of flowing freely through and with it (sober AND awake).

The best I’ve come up with so far is to not resist what is. Rather, I just let myself fall into what’s happening in the moment—fully and completely—until I’m so in it, I don’t differentiate myself from it. I merge into it with a full-on embrace and trust. Seated in the Is-ness, I am gifted with periods of real peace and even joy, but not what I would call freedom. Sorry, but that’s what I’m really going for. Sadly, I think that’s the one thing I cannot really have. At least not in the way I imagine it. 

Being here on this plane of existence doesn’t appear to be about freedom or transcendence or nirvana. If it is, it certainly isn’t the easiest door to open. Believe me, I’ve tried, and paradoxically, it is that trying that has led to my failure. It seems as though the very act of wanting and seeking a way out of the limitations of physical existence, actually seals the door even tighter, whereas, letting go of the need for things to be different, being with all that is as it is, tends to crack it open just a hair.

In other words, if you’re here, be here. Life has a built in exit plan. Knowing that, wouldn’t you want to hang out here and see what happens next? Besides, how do you or I know that once we die, we aren’t lining up to come right back? How do we know this isn’t one of the coolest places in existence to incarnate?

On the other hand, it could also be a prison matrix in which we’re prisoners with no real reason behind our imprisonment other than we were in the wrong place at the wrong time. In that model, those of us looking for an escape would be considered heroes.

This illusiveness and speculation is precisely the problem. Like a kaleidoscope, our experience of life shifts depending on how you look at it. Turn it one way and it looks like a cosmic dance filled with divine blessings and opportunities. Turn it another way, and it looks like a cruel, painful phenomenon filled with unnecessary hardship and suffering. Turn it again, and it falls somewhere in the middle and looks like the most ordinary thing in the world.

Maybe it’s all of those things, plus more. For now, at least, it continues to remain a mystery. And since we can’t seem to do anything about that, perhaps it best we trust that all is well.