I Don't Know How to Do This

A couple of days ago I wrote that life is a job, and implied that one of the most basic aspects of that job is to make life have meaning.

I know that the meaning of my life is entirely up to me, for me to create. I've come to see that this isn't some diktat from some being of a higher order making demands of me based on some responsibility contract I was forced to sign by being born, as if I'd coerced my parents into making me, rather than the other way around. No, there's no entity arbitrarily demanding I get to work at meaning-making. Rather this is simply a law of the universe, like the physics of gravity or the dharmic laws of cause and effect. It just is. The responsibility to make meaning out of one's life is like the responsibility to eat if one wants to live. It is simply a fact of the human condition. I'm beholden to no one, but I am vastly beholden to myself.

The problem is that I feel I lack the skill set to create meaning for my life. If someone has been indoctrinated— dare I say brainwashed?— for the first three-fifths of his life, the "formative years", to believing that the meaning for his life comes from an all-powerful entity given to mercurial moodswings and tyrannical rulership, it's hard to take control of life for oneself. In other words, I was taught throughout my childhood, youth and young adulthood, that God had plans, that God had given me my life's meaning, etc. So I not only received no training in meaning-making, I was discouraged from even questioning it. I just don't know how to do this.

I can of course think critically. I can weigh options. I can say, well, I like this, I loathe that, I don't give a shit about the other. But I cannot find the wherewithal within me to feel passionate about anything. The closest I come to passionate is anger over the way I was raised. And even that is mitigated by feeling sorry for my parents, who were so smart and so clueless at the same time. I have no burning desire to accomplish any particular thing; I have no "great work" waiting to be done.

So here I am. I'm freaked out about being old and alone, and completely unable to find a mate. I'm adrift in a life that has no inherent meaning, and feel ill-equipped to create that meaning. I have no real career, no real family and nothing to look forward to except getting older, uglier and more alone.

Bear with me; I'm still trying to figure this out.

Three Quick Notes

• Sunday I went running for the first time in years. I did a simple walk-run workout, i.e., I walked for 2 minutes, then ran for 2 minutes, then back to walking, alternating each for a total of 22 minutes. I covered 1.7 miles (2.7 kilometers). I found out the way I had been taught to run in college was all wrong, and I'm re-learning how to run, so it will be slow going for a while.
  
• I finished Gordon Marino's excellent anthology Basic Writings of Existentialism, and I recommend it. As any really good anthology does, the book has me wanting to read more by some of the authors represented, especially Kierkegaard and Camus. Also, the excerpt from Sartre's essay "Existentialism Is a Humanism" is the best summary of Sartre I've ever read. I wish I read this essay before reading Being and Nothingness.
  
• That being said, I can say affirmatively that I am not an atheist, and am only an agnostic in the strictest, most limited definition of the word, namely, that I don't "know" that God exists. I believe God exists, not out of some logical proof, but because I need to believe God exists. It is a matter of faith, and a matter of acknowledging, like Douglas Coupland's narrator in Life After God that:

  "I need God to help me give, because I no longer seem to be capable of giving; to help me be kind, as I no longer seem capable of kindness; to help me love, as I seem beyond being able to love."

Favorite Quote, XI: "I Need God"

My secret is that I need God--that I am sick and can no longer make it alone. I need God to help me give, because I no longer seem to be capable of giving; to help me be kind, as I no longer seem capable of kindness; to help me love, as I seem beyond being able to love.

—Douglas Coupland, Life After God