Work and Meaning

Our lives are specks. Planet Earth is a speck. Our galaxy is a speck. We live in an infinite universe where looking at a star means looking into a past so distant that earth had not yet stirred with life. We don ‘t sense our insignificance until it is brought to our attention: A natural disaster. A moment of awe, while seeing spectacular beauty for the first time. An intellectual epiphany in which we grasp but for a moment the impossible scale of existence. It is at such moments that we can find meaning in our lives. But these moments do not come often. And so, for the great part of our lives, many of us are seeking the “meaning of life. ” Some of us avoid the question by staying busy. Who has time to ponder such questions when there ‘s so much to be done? Sometimes though, even for busy people, the question strikes us. We complete a project. We finish the work week and have no plans for our days off. We win a competition. Our children grow up and leave home to start thier own families. Some people who ‘ve made a great deal of money ask the question in a different way. They stand alone on the deck of their yachts and ask “is this all there is? ” The question is eternal: What did St. George do after he slayed the dragon? I usually think of my memoir as the most important work I ‘ve ever done. Perhaps because of this, I ‘ve found it difficult to write anything else. What is the point of writing something new unless it is as profound or useful to others? I ‘ve no interest in writing for vanity but I ‘ve always wanted to tell...