Post by Turtleshell on Jul 21, 2017 16:50:07 GMT -5
THOSE that choose to die for someone else, it is often said they become that person, in a sense. Their memory is never really gone. Even when all that knew them have come to pass…the memory of those people exist with someone else. On it goes. So it only makes sense that those who chose to die for themselves- those that take their own life- they must become…themselves, yes? They stay themselves, rather. And if we die, physically, and disappear, well…what, exactly, is the good in only being who you’ve always been? In not allowing yourself to change, to let the world mold you? What is left when you simply, just…cease to exist?
Then there are those of us that make no choice. There is no sacrifice, be it for yourself, or someone else. It is either fate, or, perhaps, accident that has taken you beyond Earth- wherever, or wherever not, that place may be. It is the action of another, either directly, or indirectly, that rips away your conscious thought, that leaves you cold and lifeless. Someone intervenes in your own path- their car swerves into yours, their knife stabs you in the back, their hands shove you down the steps…whatever it is they do…
You’re gone.
So we are left to ask why? What is the point of feeling all the pain that we feel in life? Why? Why do we suffer, if we’re all destined to die? The silent agony, the terrifying despair, that sinking, torturous feeling of absolute loss and downright disgusting, retching heartache. Because this? Yes, this is the true pain. Physical pain only lasts until a person is gone. But the emotional pain we feel daily? The gnawing emptiness that may eat you up inside? That pain remains, but not for yourself. It is passed on. Most all of us at one point feel it. Very few, and perhaps none of us truly understand it.
It is like a plague that presses on, advancing and retreating, advancing and retreating, again and again, over and over. It continues.
So why, we all ask ourselves. It seems so ridiculous! Why, why, why?
Because consciousness isn’t born- it is made and created. It grows, expands, and evolves.
A rather…controversial term for sure. Many laugh, they scoff at the idea. But in this sense…evolution is only a word drawn from a dictionary. A simple, man-made dictionary, printed from paper that has come from the trees, and placed on shelves to be studied. It is one of many pieces that attempts to explain what makes us human, at least in one small way.
It is only through this process of living that we learn, that our consciousness as a group of living creatures expand.
It is the very proof that we humans must seek to classify, describe, and determine exactly what we are. We teach what we have learned to our next generation. Then, they learn more. They either do this by simple means, such as observation. Or they suffer for it, and it is through this pain they learn more and more, to continue to pass on.
This is how consciousness has grown. Because evolution’s true meaning is this: the gradual development of something, from simple to complex. It can be interpreted in many ways, such as Darwin’s theory- which, I might add, he never called ‘evolution.’ In this sense, we have evolved all of our understanding of the world throughout time, as a whole. But even…individually.
You see, I’m still learning. Every. Single. Day. And so I write to process these thoughts in my head, as I hear, see, and understand more from others. No matter what anyone may claim, I don’t write for myself, and no one can. You’re always writing for others. Even you journal; you write in your diary daily to understand your own thoughts, to process actions and activities all around you, yes? Then you’re doing it for yourself. Because to truly be happy and to enjoy this world, we rely on others. We seek to understand ourselves and our place in the world to better those around us, either the people we care for, or strangers we only imagine exist.
Consciousness wasn’t born. Consciousness was created. Whether you wish to believe it was created by a higher power, by life long ago, or that it is a trait that solely exists in the human race, well, that is up to you. But it doesn’t matter. Whether it was other species that started gaining consciousness through life’s long evolutionary journey. Whether a ‘god’ or, heck, even aliens that created it for us. Or if we- each singular individual, through a rapidly expedited process- create it within our own minds shortly before or after birth…why would it matter?
Because we have it. We, and maybe even other animals. Perhaps even other life off this planet has this…ability. To understand and wish to truly delve into the winding ticks of the clock that make us run? That is our purpose.
There’s not one single way to do that. In fact, that very notion is absolutely preposterous; everything, every being, living, breathing thing, it all adds to that purpose. To help life understand itself. You can go about your days only bringing joy to others, to have children, and raise them right…that helps. Because you’re teaching them. You can be Albert Einstein and bring so much to the table, and sure, you’re remembered by more people, perhaps. You’ve offered a lot. And, yeah, maybe some contributions can be measured greater than those of others.
We can certainly rate it to be higher than that of a criminal. A killer, an abuser, a manipulator of the world. Someone who only aims to please themselves, for this very little time we all have here. What do they contribute? A negative impact. They take away someone who could help us learn more, to teach others, even if it was only in a little way.
So, yes, everyone has a purpose. Maybe you haven’t found yours yet. But it is among us. Among life. It is to help and to love all of those around you, no matter how different they may be. To really find that purpose, you have to look into yourself, sure. But more importantly, the only place you can ever really find that purpose is out there. Past your thoughts and emotions, and with those around you.
I set out on this journey only looking to understand my thoughts, to organize them and make sense. And that is what I’ve done. But in my opinion…I’ve done more. I’m still trying to find the career for me, to figure out how I can help my family, my friends, the strangers here and far, and the world as a whole. Someday, I’ll realize that goal. Because it’s what I’m meant to do. In the meantime? I’m going to be happy! I’ll let the sunshine hit my skin. I’ll relax and read a book. I’ll run as far as the day can take me. I’ll see what I want, and I’ll love it all. For now, I curl back up on my couch, return to my studies, and listen to my parrots chirp away, thinking they have consciousness too. I’m going to open the windows evermore, and let the light in.
I’ll remember that all of our thoughts may conflict, impede, and collide with one another. I won’t let it get to me. There’s enough pain to go around without us hating each other. I’ll help in the very best way I know how: by being me. Me…well, that changes every day, just as the world does.
And you?
Well…maybe…just maybe…
…you should do that too.
Then there are those of us that make no choice. There is no sacrifice, be it for yourself, or someone else. It is either fate, or, perhaps, accident that has taken you beyond Earth- wherever, or wherever not, that place may be. It is the action of another, either directly, or indirectly, that rips away your conscious thought, that leaves you cold and lifeless. Someone intervenes in your own path- their car swerves into yours, their knife stabs you in the back, their hands shove you down the steps…whatever it is they do…
You’re gone.
So we are left to ask why? What is the point of feeling all the pain that we feel in life? Why? Why do we suffer, if we’re all destined to die? The silent agony, the terrifying despair, that sinking, torturous feeling of absolute loss and downright disgusting, retching heartache. Because this? Yes, this is the true pain. Physical pain only lasts until a person is gone. But the emotional pain we feel daily? The gnawing emptiness that may eat you up inside? That pain remains, but not for yourself. It is passed on. Most all of us at one point feel it. Very few, and perhaps none of us truly understand it.
It is like a plague that presses on, advancing and retreating, advancing and retreating, again and again, over and over. It continues.
So why, we all ask ourselves. It seems so ridiculous! Why, why, why?
Because consciousness isn’t born- it is made and created. It grows, expands, and evolves.
A rather…controversial term for sure. Many laugh, they scoff at the idea. But in this sense…evolution is only a word drawn from a dictionary. A simple, man-made dictionary, printed from paper that has come from the trees, and placed on shelves to be studied. It is one of many pieces that attempts to explain what makes us human, at least in one small way.
It is only through this process of living that we learn, that our consciousness as a group of living creatures expand.
It is the very proof that we humans must seek to classify, describe, and determine exactly what we are. We teach what we have learned to our next generation. Then, they learn more. They either do this by simple means, such as observation. Or they suffer for it, and it is through this pain they learn more and more, to continue to pass on.
This is how consciousness has grown. Because evolution’s true meaning is this: the gradual development of something, from simple to complex. It can be interpreted in many ways, such as Darwin’s theory- which, I might add, he never called ‘evolution.’ In this sense, we have evolved all of our understanding of the world throughout time, as a whole. But even…individually.
You see, I’m still learning. Every. Single. Day. And so I write to process these thoughts in my head, as I hear, see, and understand more from others. No matter what anyone may claim, I don’t write for myself, and no one can. You’re always writing for others. Even you journal; you write in your diary daily to understand your own thoughts, to process actions and activities all around you, yes? Then you’re doing it for yourself. Because to truly be happy and to enjoy this world, we rely on others. We seek to understand ourselves and our place in the world to better those around us, either the people we care for, or strangers we only imagine exist.
Consciousness wasn’t born. Consciousness was created. Whether you wish to believe it was created by a higher power, by life long ago, or that it is a trait that solely exists in the human race, well, that is up to you. But it doesn’t matter. Whether it was other species that started gaining consciousness through life’s long evolutionary journey. Whether a ‘god’ or, heck, even aliens that created it for us. Or if we- each singular individual, through a rapidly expedited process- create it within our own minds shortly before or after birth…why would it matter?
Because we have it. We, and maybe even other animals. Perhaps even other life off this planet has this…ability. To understand and wish to truly delve into the winding ticks of the clock that make us run? That is our purpose.
There’s not one single way to do that. In fact, that very notion is absolutely preposterous; everything, every being, living, breathing thing, it all adds to that purpose. To help life understand itself. You can go about your days only bringing joy to others, to have children, and raise them right…that helps. Because you’re teaching them. You can be Albert Einstein and bring so much to the table, and sure, you’re remembered by more people, perhaps. You’ve offered a lot. And, yeah, maybe some contributions can be measured greater than those of others.
We can certainly rate it to be higher than that of a criminal. A killer, an abuser, a manipulator of the world. Someone who only aims to please themselves, for this very little time we all have here. What do they contribute? A negative impact. They take away someone who could help us learn more, to teach others, even if it was only in a little way.
So, yes, everyone has a purpose. Maybe you haven’t found yours yet. But it is among us. Among life. It is to help and to love all of those around you, no matter how different they may be. To really find that purpose, you have to look into yourself, sure. But more importantly, the only place you can ever really find that purpose is out there. Past your thoughts and emotions, and with those around you.
I set out on this journey only looking to understand my thoughts, to organize them and make sense. And that is what I’ve done. But in my opinion…I’ve done more. I’m still trying to find the career for me, to figure out how I can help my family, my friends, the strangers here and far, and the world as a whole. Someday, I’ll realize that goal. Because it’s what I’m meant to do. In the meantime? I’m going to be happy! I’ll let the sunshine hit my skin. I’ll relax and read a book. I’ll run as far as the day can take me. I’ll see what I want, and I’ll love it all. For now, I curl back up on my couch, return to my studies, and listen to my parrots chirp away, thinking they have consciousness too. I’m going to open the windows evermore, and let the light in.
I’ll remember that all of our thoughts may conflict, impede, and collide with one another. I won’t let it get to me. There’s enough pain to go around without us hating each other. I’ll help in the very best way I know how: by being me. Me…well, that changes every day, just as the world does.
And you?
Well…maybe…just maybe…
…you should do that too.
This piece was only created to help other people look both into themselves to attempt to find answers to the question of purpose, and to look outside themselves, to the greater world around them. In no way was this meant to start, create, or continue any argument. They are just existing, processed, and organized thoughts from the thoughts many individuals have had throughout time. Emotions and ideas I've accumulated over a rapid and yet long period of time. To me, the years go by slowly. In reality, a year is not even a single grain of sand to the world. But in the greater scheme of things, I- and all of us- must not look at it with despair. Enough of that exists already. I use it to remind myself of the true nature of life; to make each and everything we do count. Because the world is not made by one soul, but a congregation of more than we can count. And I am a piece of that.
As are you.
As are you.