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Self-improvement is masturbation, now self destruction…

The question certainly is not ‘what is the meaning of my life’?  The real question is ‘Is there meaning to my life’? or ‘Is there any meaning to anyone’s life’?

I think not.

I think that we are all made to believe that we are all ‘unique snowflakes’ and have a ‘destiny’.  There is a small chance that we are the ‘the same decaying organic matter as everyone else, and we are all part of the same compost pile’. (Tyler’s words coming out of my mouth).

I believe that small chance.

Perhaps, living as life happens is the real meaning of my life. Just watching life as it unfolds. Not judging, not touching, not driving. Nothing special. Nothing extraordinary. No ‘greater purpose’.

The ordinary is the extraordinary.  The smile of my lover. The rain drops splashing on the road in moonlight. The fresh breath of jasmine as I walk back to my home. The stench of garbage. The aimless dance of politicians to retain power. The sound of Drupad music to my ears. The cacophony of traffic and the smoke it drives up my lungs. The happiness, the confusions, love, hate, realizations, songs, laughter. All in all is a neat package of goodies and junk that life brings us.

Our lives, just as they are; are incredibly special. That which all is real and simply not a mind construct.

Any  supposed imagination, aspiration of the future or the guilt of not having done things in the past is a departure from life itself. Departure from reality. It is shutting off your nose to the indulgence of Jasmine.

Life is waiting for you. Get high on it.

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