Direction

This is my first blog. I don't know how many there'll be. They might die out tomorrow. They might continue as long as I do. But that thought is a metaphor for the theme I want to consider here: direction.

I am but one mind, bound in one body, and one brief temporal frame. Without inherent purpose, or singular direction. All other minds differ from my own, and yet in this regard they are all as one; each searching for purpose, devotion, direction. No one wishes for the life of a mundane drone, though all crave a certain level of acceptance and belonging. As I turn my quarter century I consider once again what will my purpose be? I won't pretend that it's the first time I've asked that question. Nor do I believe that there is, or even can be, a single right answer.

Some find this answer in faith; believing that, since their purpose is not clear, it must belong to a higher purpose. I am unable to commit to such absolutes. Others focus on their career, striving ever onwards for mastery and recognition. This can be a powerful and fulfilling motivator. But, do not such people eventually look under their feet to find that the foundations of that accomplishment eventually crumble? Odysseus learned that he could only gain immortality, and thus fulfil his purpose, by legacy of DNA, and not by a legacy left in battle, or as king. But even this purpose will eventually perish, as will all things.

Perhaps there are some, many even, who claim that such directionlessness, such freedom, is a wonderful liberty. I, indeed, was brought up in a society that always claimed more choice can only be a good thing. However, I cannot but envy my mental rose-tinted visage of the artisan, the craftsman, the apprentice. The man who, having only known one life, can only devote oneself to the singular purpose of that training. In reality such are difficult lives, no doubt, but there is something strangely appealing nonetheless.

I have always considered myself a secular humanist, in the sense that I believe in the betterment of mankind; that man, even if he is not primed to act in this way, can and should strive to improve himself and support the improvement of others around him. And perhaps the purpose I could find would be to devote myself to loving those around me. Abraham Lincoln is supposed to have said, "I destroy my enemies when I make them my friends"; and a deep part of me resonates with this ideal. Yet my rational, thinking brain laments that the freedom imposed upon the living, and the wide variety of circumstance which accompanies it, demands a wide difference in opinion by all people, in all things. Perhaps unification is an optimists dream? But, is a goal that is unachievable still worth striving towards? can the value of the journey not outrank that of the destination?

This is the ideal by which I choose to live, for if it is false, then on what basis does life have value? If you consider these words overblown, melodramatic or self-pitying in any way, then I fear that we have misunderstood one another, and I apologise for wasting your precious minutes. Please try your best to make the next few count.