Was watching this documentary on the
importance of myths in our lives. I am not good with remembering names. So will call him the
person. The
person seemed to know a lot about myths and stories from all the over the world. I listened as he explained, trying to make sense of it. I must admit most of it was beyond me; even stories that I have known all my life were explained to reveal deep metaphysical meaning. This was too much to take; I felt like some village idiot who had suddenly discovered that the stars were not distant light bulbs in the night sky.
I didn't like feeling like an idiot; I began to continue watching as I had little else to do. In the middle of it, out of nowhere, one of the
actors asked if myths provided people with a meaning in life? This is getting interesting, I thought. I had spent a significant portion of my idle youth reading books I didn't understand, trying to make sense of life. I was convinced there must be a real purpose to life and it was hidden in some book tucked away in some corner, waiting to be read.
The
person, without a pause, something you would expect when you consider the magnitude of the question, answered quite simply; a lot of people in the world believe that there is a purpose to life, but all they seek is
the experience of life. And my head went Plinkoo.
The simplicity of it all. Why did I not see it? Why did I think a purpose would lift my life? All that I ever needed from life was to really feel alive. To feel. That is indeed a rare commodity in todays world.