My Journey Through Existential Crisis: What does it all mean?
As the sun begins to shine and the world slowly stirs to life, I sit at my desk with a blank page and a hot cup of green tea. In the calm of the early morning, I’m compelled to open up about a deep personal experience that I’ve been navigating for a while. An existential crisis that has been my constant companion for the past year, a riddle of life wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma.
I am far from deciphering this enigma — not sure I ever will, but I’ve been riding the path of it, feeling its twists and turns, its ups and downs. It’s a journey of introspection, questioning, and seeking answers to life’s most profound questions: What is my purpose? Why am I here? What does it all mean?
I always had questions about the true meanings of our lives, but always felt as though I had an eternity to unravel them. It wasn’t until one night, deeply engraved in my memory, that something seemed to click in my mind. A sudden rush of thoughts flooded my consciousness. It was as if a lamp had flickered on for a mere second, illuminating a room reflecting the emptiness of life without a clear understanding. Then, just as abruptly, the light turned off, leaving me stranded in a maze of darkness and emptiness, striving to navigate my way out of this room.
From that point, anxiety began to seep into my everyday life, this profound need to comprehend the reality of my existence started to impact my daily routine. I ceased to view life through the same lens.
I began to see my life as nothing more than an elaborate illusion. Our perception of reality is no more than a subjective perspective of senses. For instance, our understanding of time is a mere product of our biological and psychological workings. The way we experience the passage of time is inconsistent at best. It can slow down in moments of danger, speed up when we’re having fun, or even seemingly stop when we’re absorbed in a task.
To further understand the reality, I was trying to imagine the significance of my life outside my perception, see life through different lenses: An oak tree that can live for over 1,000 years, could perceive 10 generations of a life like mine, assuming we were fortunate enough to live a full century. Earth clocking in at 4.54 billion years old, my lifetime is literally insignificant in comparison to its existence. Then, one must consider how this reflects on our galaxy, and what about the other galaxies and the universe as a whole.
The more I viewed myself in this grander scheme, the more I realized how little and insignificant my life actually is. To deepen this perspective, I shifted my gaze inward. Instead of pondering the enormity of the planets or the universe, I imagined myself as a universe, with me being one of the bacterium living within me. This bacteria lives, grows, and dies within me, its existence entirely dependent on my own, yet its life is so minuscule in comparison to mine. In its illusion, my lifetime is enormous in comparison to it. Regardless of how long this tiny organism ponders and ruminates, attempting to philosophically understand its objective, it will never comprehend that it’s actual purpose is for me to digest, protect me from harmful invaders, and maintain a balance within my body. All it does is survive, never seeing the world from the outside perspective, never knowing the ultimate objective of its existence. Sometimes I even laughed about it; if the bacteria actually knew that its entire existence was only for my well-being, it might stop doing its job in protest for me to understand its importance or even commit suicide.
This realization scared me, it shattered my ego, and I started to see the world from a nihilistic approach. As I ventured further into this new perspective, I found myself grappling with a sense of purposelessness. The world, once vibrant and full of meaning, seemed to lose its color. It was as if I was looking at a painting, once rich in hues and textures, now fading into a monotonous grey.
I couldn’t bear my insignificance, I had to find my purpose in life. I couldn’t persist in leading a life that, at the very least, seemed meaningless to me. Some believe they possess the answer — this is where religious philosophies come into play. They claim to offer a sense of purpose, a framework, a lens through which to view life. Each one providing its own narrative, its own set of rules, its own path to follow. For some, this provides comfort, a sense of belonging, a feeling of being part of something greater than oneself.
But for me, it was not so simple — I wish it was. The more I delved into these philosophies, the more I questioned. The more I questioned, the more I felt lost. It was as if I was wandering in a dense forest, with no path, no compass, no sense of direction. I was adrift in a sea of uncertainty, a ship with no anchor. I can’t dismiss the significance of certain religious philosophies, as they undoubtedly carry a high moral sense. I won’t delve into my theological identity, but I did see religion offering me a wonderful package. What could be better than believing my loved ones, no matter what happens, are in a better place? What could be more comforting than the idea that my consciousness will never cease to exist, and if I act righteously on earth, it will instead transfer to a place of peace, united with my creator? Even though I yearned to accept this as the factual answer to my existence, it wasn’t easily captivating for a chaotic mind like mine, it’s a soothing theory after all, but who am I to deny it or claim it.
The deeper I delved, the heavier it felt. Thousands of questions bombarded my mind relentlessly, day and night. Each moment intensified, until I reached a point where I felt detached from the present. I remember sitting in a crowded restaurant, surrounded by chatter and laughter, each individual engrossed in their own story. I felt as though I was in an entirely different realm, observing these people. I resembled them to the bacteria, thinking if they truly understood the reality of existence, they too would protest life just like the minuscule organism.
Ultimately, I was forced to confront the fact that, no matter how much time I spend pondering and striving to uncover the truth, my lifespan is far too short to fully grasp reality. I will never possess the physical capacity to discover it all. This leads me back to the understanding of when to let go, and the comprehension of the illusion of control.
I had to find “my home”, the source of my identity. The source of my happiness in life, at the very least. Given that I’m already part of this grand game of existence, why shouldn’t I make the most of it and uncover what truly brings me joy? In the past, I believed that reaching a certain degree, attaining a specific job position, or earning a particular sum of money would undoubtedly bring joy to my life. I projected perfect scenarios and expectations, convinced that they would lead me to happiness — more details on this journey are shared in this blog. Yet, I was mistaken. When I achieved some of my goals, I was taken aback to find that they didn’t bring the satisfaction I had anticipated. I can’t deny that life and financial means are resources that help build a comfortable lifestyle, providing us with the freedom to pursue our passions and interests. They can afford us the ability to travel, explore new cultures, and broaden our horizons. They can even provide us with a sense of security and stability. Yet, they are never a definitive answer for happiness.
I began to ponder, what is the ultimate answer to my happiness? No material possession seems sufficient to reveal the meaning, so perhaps immaterial things hold the key, I’ve come to the short realization that ultimately the objective of life is to love and be loved.
As noble as this objective might sound, I’ve come to understand that it’s a somewhat misguided concept. Yes, love is indeed a fundamental answer to human existence — we are not built to live in solitude. This is rooted in our genetics. It’s believed that throughout evolution, individuals who had someone profoundly caring for them lived long enough to pass on their preference for forming intimate bonds to their descendants. Indeed, the need to be close to someone special is so vital that our brain has a biological mechanism specifically tasked for creating and regulating these connection. It’s an inherent part of our survival.
While it is true that love and connection are fundamental to human existence, it is a misguided concept to link the source of our happiness or the objective of our existence solely to others. In doing so, we inadvertently place a tremendous liability on them — a responsibility they could never truly fulfill. This is because the key to our happiness lies within us, not in the hands of someone else.
The reality is, only we hold the key to our happiness. While others can enrich our lives, they cannot be the primary source of our joy. Happiness is an internal journey, a state of being that we must nurture within ourselves, regardless of external circumstances.
There’s a heartfelt animation that I watched recently “The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse” (feel free to click the hyperlink to enjoy the full movie). Surprisingly, it felt as though it was speaking directly to me. Here’s a scene from the movie that beautifully encapsulates the essence of our tale:
“You bring something unique to this world that no one else can. So, hold on.”
Nothing in this universe exists without a purpose. From the smallest micro-organism to the grandest galaxies, each has a role to play. Even though the ultimate goal of our existence may not be something we can fully comprehend, or even something that suits us, we still find purpose. In this life of illusion, we create our own objectives, our own goals. We strive to nurture our own happiness, even if our existence is but a split second in the grand scheme of the universe’s timeline.
Why should we care? Did we worry about not existing for the billions of years before we were born? Then why should we worry about anything outside of our illusion? Yes, life is an illusion. It’s not about unraveling the mysteries of life, but rather about embracing the enigma and finding joy in the journey. It’s about creating purpose in every moment, with every breath, and in every heartbeat.
In reflecting on the bacterium, I’ve come to realize that life is less about the pursuit of a predestined purpose, and more about the art of purposeful living. By simply living, I would be fulfilling the ultimate goal of my existence, one that I may never fully understand.
Now, as the day commences, and the final sips of my long-cold tea are consumed, I find myself on a continuum of this journey with a fresh understanding. I’ve come to realize that life’s purpose is not a hidden treasure waiting to be discovered, but a path to be shaped with each step we take. Just like the blank page at the beginning of this blog, it’s not about finding the purpose for the page to be blank. It’s about documenting our own journey, making mistakes, rectifying them, and persisting in the writing journey until our life’s journey unfolds.
How do we enjoy life purposefully, one may ask? Well, it’s an open-ended question. Each and every one of us crafts their own answer to it. As for me? I believe I have just begun to comprehend the question. Hopefully, the answer will unfold itself with time — Even if not, at least, I am in the process of discovering it.
Until the next spark of thought,
Chris
