Occasionally, I have this thought that screeches life to a shuddering halt. Each time, I am filled with fear and left floating in an empty expanse of nothing, unable to do anything as I realize I don’t know why I am here, what I am supposed to be doing. Life has no meaning. I have no purpose.
I wrote this post almost 5 years ago, and I still believe it. The TL;DR of that post is there is no one meaning of life, there is no grand pre-architected purpose we are meant to discover.
Our meaning, our purpose, is ours to choose.
So, when this thought and its accompanying fear grip my heart, it is not because I am not without THE meaning or THE purpose. I am just without my meaning, my purpose.
And that scares the sacred shit out of me.
My life is half over. Hell, the way I treat myself, my life is well over half over and I still have not made my choice. I don’t know what direction to go. I don’t know what I want.
And I am running out of time.