Why am I here? Why does it hurt? What is my purpose? What is my calling? What is my reason for being? Why?
I have asked ‘why’ my entire life. I have read books and listened to people, but ultimately I decided that no one actually knows the answer to any of these questions.
When I was young my mother once told me that “everything happens for a reason”. I found it comforting to know that beneath the surface there was always a reason, even if I did not know it. It reinforced the idea that I could know everything, even if I did not.
But as comforting as this was, it was never enough. For if I did not know the reason, then who did? Who was the knower of all these reasons? Reason and knowledge are tricky things: once I believed that they existed, I believed that everything must have one. And since I could not definitively state the reason for anything, then I either had to admit an omniscient god who did know, or redefine reason as a construct of my imagination.
Deeper than my belief that everything had a reason was my belief in my own omniscience: that I could know everything. And the more I looked, the more I realized that reason was fickle, and entirely up to me to decide. I am the decider of reason. Reason is not something solid, permanent and immovable. Reason is a decision I make. Reason is subordinate to me; I am not subordinate to it. And yes, I am the knower of all reasons for I decide if they exist or not.
Reason is temporal and inessential. The only thing that matters is that I wake up into this place I do not want to be. Why? It does not matter “why”. Why and reason are artifacts of my waking condition. The pain of separation creates the desire for reunion; what role does reason play?
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