I wonder if life has meaning at all. We are meant to born in this world, well some aren’t lucky enough to be, and then to live our life the way we want it or the way life wants us to live it and sometimes to the point that we don’t have anymore options and choices but to accept it, and then at last we die. The last stage of living is dying.
They said, dying is more universal than living because not everybody has the chance to live, I think it’s unfair, because everybody has the chance to die. Before we’re born, we set to die. Some believe that in dying we enter eternal life. But before eternal life, can we first set meaning to a life meant for us. We meant to live in this world and make this life a meaningful one.
Between birth and dying is living and in living we create meaning. I often wonder if people really create meaning or were they able to create meaning in between before they die. Is their life has meaning at all? How would they know that it has? I want to know. I am afraid that life would be just like a series of actions and actions and actions, unending reactions and encounter to the world without knowing and getting the meaning of everything. Again,as the old wisdom would say, there is meaning for everything, but I want to know them if not all at least some. I feel this meaning has been hidden for so long.
At last you die. I can’t write anything about me dying because I just don’t have something on my mind right now. So I guess, I’ll end it right here. But to die without really living a life with meaning is a waste. At least in our eyes but not in the eyes of God.
dark nights of the soul 