An essay composed when contemplating the meaning of life

It is a question quite possibly as old as humanity itself—why? What is the purpose, the intent, the meaning to begin every day by simultaneously opening our two eyes, to re-enter into consciousness and be apart of our environment and our world? Where does our motivation come from, and where should it come from?

I don’t believe that after the physiological termination of our bodies we are destined to either arrive at “the gates of Heaven” or the “fires of Hell.” I neither believe that Heaven, nor Hell, are physical locations just as Berlin, Africa, or Augusta St. in Staunton, VA are. If we lead the lives that we were “supposed to” or “ought to have done” and do, indeed, arrive at the Heaven exit just off the inter-galactic super-highway, what would we do all day? After we re-connect with our family members, our friends, and meet people from the great spectrum of history and time how would we satiate our existence? Would we mow Heaven’s lawn? Play darts? Attempt to have sex with Marilyn Monroe—it just doesn’t make logical sense to me.

If then, I now come to the conclusion that our lives are important for the present. I don’t think life is comparative to the college student working in the summer months so they may take a trip to Europe once they complete their Bachelor’s degree. I don’t think life, here and now, is to invest in a future award that will be “named later.” Albeit one could sculpt their lives, behaviors, and thoughts with this premise, I think they would encounter, at some point, an emptiness that would haunt.

So, the question still remains; why?

I am not a scientist. I know remarkably little of the world that surrounds me and the organic "world" that is in my body. If what scientists say is true, then human-kind has evolved from something not entirely of its present condition. The amoeba existed and over time the amoeba became the primate, and the primate became the human. From the beginnings of the human we have pursued the world around us (physical science) and the world within us (psychology). We have increased our knowledge, increased the efficiency of our brains, and still have not satiated our appetite for more of these.

Our existence is reliant on change. Even within the scope of humanity, look at how much has changed (evolved) with us from the past four thousand years. Fire as turned into electricity. Walking has turned to trains, to automobiles, to space flight. Humanity has done remarkable things in the brief time the species has inhabited Earth—both good and bad.

This is where I begin to find a “meaning.” One day (thousands of years from now? Millions?) humans will evolve from our present state. Just as the amoeba turned into the primate, and just as the primate turned into the human, humans will turn into our future. What if Love evolved as much as technology has done? What would the human mind be able to see and experience when fully initiated into the characteristics that associate the one Love? Have we seen glimpses of it already? Was Prince Siddhartha, and his Nirvana, a glimpse of what will one day come? Was Yeshua of Nazareth and his claiming that a “Kingdom of Heaven” resides within? Were the respected “Enlightened One” (the Buddha) and “Anointed One” (the Christ) possible figments of the eventual burgeoning change that will one day befall?

Quite possibly. Maybe even probably.

And it is here where I find meaning. I would rather further the inevitable change—not hinder it. I want to be the amoeba seeking to become a primate. I want to be the primate seeking to become a human. I want to be a human seeking to become what is destined to be. In “A Burnt-Out Case” Graham Greene writes, “I think of Christ as an amoeba who took the right turning. I want to be on the side of the progress which survives.”

The much more difficult task, and the one that both fills me with anxiety and excites me with unfathomable possibility, lies in its accomplishment.

I don’t want to be an amoeba.