In thinking about the “meaning” of life — I’ve heard it said that the heart of the issue is the war between the finite and the infinite. That people want themselves to exist beyond the finite into the infinite — or, they try to explain the infinite in finite terms — it simply can’t be done.

We can think all we like about it, but that won’t really get us any closer to the truth. We all have our own truths, even if we think it is the ultimate truth. The ultimate truth may never be known — perhaps because there isn’t one. Regardless, people try and find meaning for their fumbling in the dark, their attempts at connection and purpose and passion, or else addiction to a great many things — power, appearance, acceptance, security. Why are we wired this way?

Everyone is trying to “fill the void” — a void which exists when perhaps we have all our basic needs met. How did that one philosopher think of it? With the pyramid? (Maslow’s hierarchy of needs). Those closest to me will profess that the void exists because of and can only be filled by God. People will theorize that because humans always want more, that there must be something missing.

And who can know? The believers can’t say for sure, can’t point to some hard evidence. They will try, and when others rationalize, they are blind and stubborn, willing to see anything but the truth. Perhaps the believers are the ones who want to see everything but the truth. What truth?

We create meaning where there isn’t any, miss it when there is. And when you’ve accomplished all you wanted in life, influenced the world, changed the trajectory of history, all that will be left is your ailing body and a memory of you. But if that’s enough for you, then perhaps that’s all that matters.

And so, being so young, I am filled with ambitions and ideas (and a tenfold amount of fear). The things that I have created give me satisfaction still, and I want to create more. I want to feel more. I want to live more.

Not too long ago, I believed that I simply could not move forward unless I’d found the truth. I spent months searching for answers, on my knees, cursing at god. Perpetually reading, watching lectures. And I am nowhere closer than I was before. I have not been able to fill the void that once was filled by a (still relatively short) lifetime of Christian faith. And though I don’t like the feeling, for now I have settled, I am content in continuing my search — though not so vehemently, but still perpetually.

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