Recently, I wrote about finding some sort of purpose, security, and comfort with the current status of my life. And though it is entirely true that for the first time in a long time I feel a sense of satisfaction with my existence, I still question the actual purpose we as human being have on this earth.
We are at once a product of our animalistic elements and a product of our mind. And while we boast that what sets us apart from all other species is the ability to verbally and orally communicate complex thoughts and ideas as well as to reason and understand some basic universal sense of morality, it still begs the question “Why are we here?”
I often ask myself if for the most part we create tasks to fill our days and create meaning. To give us a sense of purpose and make us feel as if we are doing something of value, of meaning. To distract us from the fact that no one has a damned clue why we are here and what the whole point is and find myself in constant flux between relishing in what makes us unique, makes us human, and criticising it. Because although art and literature are manifestations of what make us incredible, when taken further, our love of comfort, beautiful things, and various forms of stimulation and satisfaction turns to excess and greed and makes the human being a very ugly creature to be around.
So where is that fine line between humanity and embarrassment? And if everything in excess turns ugly, how to we attempt to be all that we are if constantly reaching for the things that make us human can make us unworthy of the title?
I previously came to the conclusion that the real purpose of being on this earth was to try to work towards a world in which everyone can experience joy. But this calls up the previous push and pull I mentioned. Because at some point, if you are constantly fighting for the rights of others and feeling guilty for what you do have, you are helping others attain happiness but robbing yourself of this same joy in the process.
But tempered with the simple principle that everything in moderation is key (thanks Benji!) it’s possible to find a balance between helping others and helping yourself. Because life is meant to be enjoyed and self care is very important – it’s just that this enjoyment and self care should not take place on the backs of others but carried out through one’s own hard work if one has the means to do so. (And if you do have the means to do so, then it is, in part, your duty to help others that may struggle to be able to help themselves also enjoy simple pleasures that life has to offer.)
I am trying to imagine that, as with all things, the journey is more important than the destination (except if that journey is a plane ride and that destination is Iceland, because Iceland is really fucking awesome and I really want to go there). And with all journeys the excitement and fulfilment is the choice we have in how we travel. And it’s this choice that can create wonderful people or terrible monsters. But it’s the choice that makes us such marvellous creatures. And it’s each mini adventure we take on our journey and all the people we will meet along the way that we should be enjoying and appreciating. (Well, most people and most journeys – but even the shitty ones teach us something)
So although I am no closer to finding out the secret to life (and how could I be, when much smarter people than me have also failed to do so), I’m just working towards living one day at a time and making my choices meaningful and, well sometimes not so meaningful, because there’s always a little room for a bit of chaos and debauchery. And maybe that is the point – that there is no answer, but the exploration of our own choices and the enjoyment of taking chances, making mistakes, getting messy, learning from it all, sometimes doing it right, and then doing it all over again.
Photography: Sandro Moscogiuri
Editing: Rae Tashman
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