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The Endless Search for Meaning


I've struggled with the question of why. I've never been willing to do things simply because I was told to do them. I always needed a reason as to why.


For years, I accepted their easy answers: because you need good grades to have a successful future; because if you don't, all of this will go on your permanent record and haunt you for the rest of your life; or even, because God is watching everything you do and judging every act. If you don't toe his line, you will burn in eternal hellfire.


Eventually, I reached the age of reason and could see the lies and half truths for what they were which only led me to question and doubt everything I'd ever been taught. Since then I've struggled with the idea of purpose.


I've worked jobs I didn't like because I understand the necessity of money. Bills must be paid. Children must be fed. That reason is clear enough but it always left me feeling empty on many levels.


I fell in and out of existential crises over the years, philosophizing that we create our own purpose. We provide meaning to our lives. This worked, sometimes, for a little while but never fully satisfied me. There still seemed to be an elephant abyss that we all studiously avoided looking at.


I fell into art. Clearing out the debris in my mind helped bring me peace and clarity. My work resonated with others and that gave me meaning but I knew that there was something deeper that I was missing.


What if it's all so much simpler though? What if I was struggling too hard and missing the obvious answer? What if all my spiritual readings, all my Tarot posts, all my poetry and all my art are just there to tell a simple story; to remind everyone that they are deserving of love? That they possess worth?


What if it is just that simple? You are made of star stuff. You are part of a greater whole.


The same message conveyed in dozens of different ways and in an infinite number of voices.


You are worthy.

You are valued.

You are loved.

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