Everything is meaningless, some say, and still we search for meaning. To concede to meaninglessness is to yield to despair. We need a purpose. We need to be moving and preferable forward.
Ahem: You, with the “Everything is meaningless” banner. Define “meaning.”
Gotcha, didn’t I? As soon as you define meaning, you bring meaning into existence. It’s a dilemma, a conundrum, a fly in the ointment.
I took the above picture of Summer and posted it to Facebook with the caption, “And after you have flipped the corner of the area rug and rummaged underneath, you are left with the question: ‘Is that all there is?’ It must all mean something, mustn’t it?”
Summer then went to her ottoman and lay down with her head on her paw. At first I thought she might be in despair about the meaninglessness of it all, but then I thought no, she looks satisfied and content. She had dug under the rug, and that fulfilled what she was meant to do. It was all she needed.
At that, the sun came out and she sighed, and it was all good.
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UPDATE: “Write one thank-you note.” I managed three! “Write one paragraph of Jeep.” Done. “Write one paragraph of (other unannounced work in progress).” Done.