The human experience is defined by a thirst, an unquenchable thirst of burning in the belly. A thirst for meaning, when we talk about me, we have an autobiographical mind, we live by a mythology, we see our lives in the context of a symbolic systems of identifications and affiliations and definitions.
We are a story and when we talk about meaning, we want the story to have a purpose, to have a plot, to have consummation consecration to overcome odds, to slay dragon, to learn from the obstacles that we slay to come back, somebody who can then teach and bestow the knowledge to somebody else. We are hungry for signification. We are starved for offense that we matter sense that it’s for something. Sense that in the end, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, has some semblance of something, something behind it.
This is what we mean by meaning the human condition is a bit absurd. We are a miracle, we are the miracle, divinity in flesh and blood, divinity incarnate and yet, in the end, we are food worms. We wither away, we witness our own withering. This is horrendous, this is a death sentence yet, we’re here, we’re alive.
What might we do? What can we do? What we will move? Therein lays the challenge. Therein lies search. What anyone would undertake if you were not stuck in the everydayness of his or her own life? To be aware of the possibility of the search, to go beyond to someone, know to be on, just to be in despair is to be the state of paralyzing anxiety. So, go out there, take the journey. Go on the search, be a seeker!