Skip to main content

And Our Purpose Is...?




The arrival of some sudden and deeply sad news this week has brought out an existential anxiety in me. It’s an uncomfortable position to find oneself, questioning the why, hows and wherefores of life. You’re born, you die, of that there is certainty, but what of the inbetween? What of that tricky patch of time we call life?   We never know the length of our allocation, of course - perhaps if we did, we might make more of our hours, and not waste them on trivialities like bearing grudges or being angry or annoyed because someone else doesn’t meet our personal expectations. I’ve been as guilty of that in my own time as the next person. But you learn, and you bloody well grow up. At least, that’s probably the Universal Plan. Some people, of course, never do. Or chose not to. 

But I’ve been struck hard by confusion in the last three days or so as to what the purpose of life is. Why ARE we here? To survive, and in (hopefully)the best and most comfortable way we can? To make some sort of a difference? But to whom or to what? To make changes, maybe? But to what end? 

This global pandemic is revealing the best and worst of humanity. I’ve borne witness to acts that have made me think, ‘Human beings are great, aren’t they? So compassionate, so clever, so caring!’ And I’ve borne witness to other acts that have made me think, ‘Humans are the most selfish crocks of shite on the planet and we should hang our heads in shame.’ I’ve caught myself thinking, ‘We don’t have time for all this mess.’

And I still don’t know why I am here. I’m heading towards the end of my 55th year, and STILL I don’t know what it is I am supposed to be doing. Perhaps I’ve already done it. I’ve grown two pretty amazing children, I’ve been a reasonably successful teacher. I look after my little patch of the world by gardening and trying to be as environmentally friendly as possible. I try to be kind. I sometimes raise a smile in others.

But should something bigger be my aim? Or is what I am doing big enough? I have an uncomfortable feeling that it is not. I am hoping that feeling is stemming from the fact I am being a bit hard on myself at the moment, and I am feeling sad.

The swallow parents have three babies. They are busy, in and out of the laundry room all day, feeding their young, working for their survival. I sat and watched them from an upstairs window this afternoon, battling the gusting winds to provide for their family. Perhaps they know what it’s all about, those two swallows...
 

Comments

Athene said…
Sorry to hear that you’ve had some sad news. Much of life is made up of the everyday and the mundane, we bumble along doing the washing, cooking, gardening and planning ahead and then something stops you in your tracks. But most of us are not going to write a Booker Prize winner, discover a cure for Coronavirus or save a life. I think the best any of us can hope for is to make a difference.

I have many faults, but I hope there are one or two people whose life has been improved by my presence on this planet. And I hope that I’m going about my everyday, mundane business I am doing so in a way that does no harm to others or to the planet - I probably fail more than I succeed at the last one, but it’s the best we can do.

I am sure that you have made a difference to the children you have taught. You’ve made a difference to your own children and your grandchildren. You’ve made a difference to some of the animals that you’ve cared for, and you do your bit to live ethically. And you have certainly cheered and entertained me and many others with your writing. I hope the sad news is something that you can come to terms with, and that it won’t affect you and Andy too much.
With Tom being ill and us knowing that he may not be here for much longer it is a question that we have discussed on many occasions.
I think life is very cruel. We start off with so much hope and along the way we get disillusioned.
I have come to the conclusion that we are simply her to reproduce to keep the species going and any happiness we can find in between should be grasped with both hands and enjoyed in the moment.
Briony
x
aileen g said…
Dear Denise, I am so sorry to hear of your despondency and wish you much strength to find your way through it. I'm not sure any of us really know anything not matter how old we are and I have often envied animals who seem to go through their lives without wondering about any greater purpose - they simply just "get on with it". I agree the lockdown has shown us the good and bad that people can be, and also heightened our emotions so that it has a greater impact on us - and also given us too much time to sit and ponder on such things without the distractions of our everyday lives. I agree with Athene that you have given a great deal of joy to people - not just your own family and friends but also to strangers such as I am through sharing your home and garden through your blog and your wonderful writing. Just take some time to let things settle and be as kind to yourself as you would be to others. All the best x
Denise said…
Oh, you lovely, lovely ladies! Thank you Olly (for you email, too, so I could explain) and Briony and Aileen. I wish I could invite you all round for a jolly marvellous afternoon tea and a bit of arty crafty doing, and some wonderful conversation. (Thanks also to Vera and Mrs Jessica Duck, for your separate contact to check I was okay.) I am okay. I am doing lots of thinking and readjusting and making a new pathway for myself. All will be well, and onwards and upwards. I am much cheered to know that I have such wonderful, sensitive, caring blogging chums. xx
Anonymous said…
Ah Denise, sorry for your sad news. Athene said most of what I was thinking reading through the blog entry. I wish I could come by with a bit of knitting and a chocolate cake and do some good ol' chatting.

KJ
Denise said…
Some good ol’ chatting would be perfect just now, KJ, with a fine bunch of ladies with lots of life experience. Just what the doctor would order. Thank you. 🙂

Popular posts from this blog

The Frosted Dawn Enigma

The decorators are in at the moment. Stairs and landing. Given my previous history of 'Hoo Ha Occurring on Stairs ' - reference the Trapped Under the Sofa Incident and the Foot Wedged Between Bookcase and Stair Rise Debacle - I thought it wise to pay for professionals to decorate the stairs and landing rather than get myself in a mix with ladder and plank combinations and achieve the Magic Three of staircase accidents. The decorators are a father and son combo who go by the  names of Craig and David. This automatically causes me entertainment. 'Came in on a Monday, prepped, filled and undercoated, back on Thursday, first top coating, by Friday finishing touches...' Okay, not as frisky or well-scanned as the original song, but you get where I'm coming from. Anyway, before they started the job Craig asked what colour I wanted for the walls. 'Same colour as the downstairs walls, please,' said I. 'Dulux Frosted Dawn.' And then white for ...

Day 1 - Decisions Are Made Beyond the Author's Control.

‘Well,’ I say, looking at the expectant faces gathered around the huge table in the Great Dining Hall of Much Malarkey Manor, ‘I didn’t think it was going to happen this year, but it is!’ There is a sharp intake of breath as everyone wonders of what I speak. I’ve been muttering about all sorts recently, and I’m not talking liquorice here either.   ‘The Much Malarkey Manor Annual and Traditional Christmas Story!’ I say, and wait for the expulsed air of relief to settle before I continue. ‘I thought we had done it all. I thought we had covered every Christmas story there was. I’ve been wracking my brains for a full two months now, trying to come up with something we haven’t done before and then it hit me! We haven’t done a version of one of the Great Christmas Films of Yore!’ ‘Your what?’ says Mrs Slocombe, who is more interested in the selection of pastries I have brought to this breakfast meeting, because that is what one does, isn’t it? Eat pastries at breakfast...

Sun Puddles

A few weeks ago, I met up with a dear friend for a meditation and healing afternoon, both of us being light workers on the spirit pathway. It did me good to re-engage in a bit of focused energy channelling (because I have let my practice slip somewhat) and during the afternoon the words ‘sun puddles’ popped into my head.  Now, I know this wasn’t my human brain thinking these words because I have never heard the phrase before; when I arrived home, I looked it up and said to myself, ‘Aaah, you mean sun spots!’ This is a sun puddle... ...there! That thing that Flora is lying on. No, not the sofa - the warm patch of sunshine on the sofa. Here are Flora and Bambino sharing a sun puddle... This proves that no matter how much they scrap with each other and try to denude each other of fur all over my rugs, they secretly share a mutual and fond admiration. I think. And here is Bambino on a sun puddle that has come to rest on my legs... It’s his casual, ‘I’m so cool’ pose. Metaphorically coo...