What is the meaning of a human life, friend?
Well, Buddy, there ain’t one, my friend.
Thanks.
Yeah, Buddy, there are many.
Haha, I know what you’re talking about. Some have brown hair, some have bl…
Yeah, that too Buddy. But I didn’t mean that.
Oh, okay.
Crike. If you haven’t heard a drunk English man blurt this work out then you still have some good living to go and do. Blime is nearly as good, but Crike is still better.
Being in mid-mid-life is fun. There is something satisfying about knowing that I have already lived at least a quarter of the years of my life. Luckily I know that years do not measure time. I think that one good, long year can be like a century (in a good way). So those of you going through various crises of life, despair not, for there will be time for you yet in this life.
It’s been a while since I have addressed you, my reader. I may not know you too well but I can imagine why you might be compelled to read something on the internet that is not the news. The news is, unfortunately, an awful measure of the world. As it portends to connect you with the realities of the world it only obscures them with sullen, irresponsible negativity. If the world was that which is conveyed by the news I would decline to live in this world. I would role up in a ball and sit in the corner. Then, luckily, I would have already escaped the world that the news conveys (a gasp of relief).
Not to say that the world is not sometimes a very harsh and undesirable thing to us. It can bite and tear away at one like a bear that spends the better part of a day gnawing on its still-alive victim before it finally snaps the poor thing’s neck or drains it of enough blood so that it can find its peace.
Oh human life. I write this from compadre to compadre. You are my compadre, Mister or Misses, whichever the case may be. And your life doesn’t need a reason. It takes people a long time to figure that out and by the time they do they are usually just about brain dead anyway. Sorry for the vulgar talk. But I am not really trying to do much of anything except speak to some imaginary person.
So why do I live on? Partly because it would take quite an effort not to. And then there is the food, the joy of sleep, the luxury of laziness that animals in my position have. There’s vinegar to drink and there is air to breath. Sometimes I sit and talk about alcohol with a bunch of older Japanese folk while getting paid a modest sum for my services (the education of language, if you were wondering).
Then there are friends. I have not actually seen much of them lately. They do float around in my head though. Their smiles, inanity, their friendliness; I could not do much without their warmth. Oh how I miss them, but oh how they remain somehow present despite their distance. I would include my family in these kind words, but everyone knows that no one really likes their family. Relationships with them are just a part of the social imperatives (sorry family). No no, I didn’t mean that. Of course they are included! What kind of misanthrope do you take me for?
So someday I may go find my friends again. Maybe I’ll get a job at the local Trader Joe’s (my dream) where I can take the best (employee discounted) foods, beers, and wines to have parties with my friends after work and on my days off. I’ve always wished to actually interact with people and I think working in a grocery store would be one of the most organic ways in our (urban) society to do so. Also, wouldn’t it be great to have a job that requires almost none of your mind’s attention so you can muse all you want? That life is underrated I believe. But not for everyone; some people need a little motivation to think all of the time, others just do. And still others just don’t want to think at all and I can’t blame them. Thinking can be pointless and irritating. It’s a matter of what kind of thinking (or lack thereof) that one desires in one’s life. And what about doing? Did I forget about doing? Someone help me! I’ve just realized that I no longer exist—that, like some small island in the middle of the Pacific, the village of Ubuyama may as well not be on planet earth because the people here think little of the life out there and the people out there think little of here. Is that why I have plunged into relativism and subjectivism? Or is it just more fun to live that way? A friend once called me a “prophet of doom.” This was a nice characterization of me.
In my world there are two dominant ways of envisioning the world. There is the world in which I live, which I help to make up in my mind on a moment-to-moment basis (it is a pretty happy place to be but has its ups and downs like anyone else’s). Then there is the vision of the world that attempts to take in the “whole” world. But this attempt will almost always involve realizing that world is in a state beyond repair. And if it isn’t beyond repair then it will be repaired in its due course. If I see myself as an agent who can act on and change the world, I see myself as an ant among ant farms (many of them). Of course what I do matters, impacts the greater whole. But it’s changing the other ants that could really make the difference. And I know I simply cannot do that all by myself. It’s a group effort that can change the group. Of course there are the Mahatma Ghandis, Martin Luther Kings, and Rosa Parks of the world. But don’t forget the hundreds of thousands, if not millions, who made these characters become themselves by supporting them and believing in their stances; the vast apparatuses that made them public figures. The people who stood with and behind the figures were just as vital as the figures themselves. The group changed the group. Individuals only appear to exist individually. Not to disrespect the work of good people. But to give credit where it’s due, not just to those who have achieved fame for what they have come to stand for. They are symbols, mantle pieces, of much greater ideas and movements of people (all of whom helped to bring about the changes).
If I have disappointed you again then I can only apologize again. It’s not that I am worried about disappointing you, it’s that you probably didn’t deserve it and just maybe you didn’t expect it either. But you must know that I am communicating for communication’s sake. You must also remember that forgiveness is the key to life’s happiness. For if and when something goes terribly wrong in the world (and this is bound to happen) one must be ready to forgive and to laugh. But perhaps most importantly, one must remember that life is much broader than the negativity it can be made to appear to be.
As Epicurus may or may not have told his many pupils in the old days in Greece, if you are lucky enough to have a working mind and a working body then you can live as well as anyone else, you can be as happy as anyone else, and you can feel as fully as anyone else. What he may not have been able to do was to teach his pupils how they can do this. But he may have.
Thank you for letting me communicate with you friend.
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