Operating on the principle that life is either:
a) The product of a divine creator, for whatever the hell purpose such a creator would bother;
or
b) Just a big chemical stew that somehow created the human and its insufferably self-important brain
...one is bound to design some foundation for action. Motivation. Purpose. Call it what you will.
If the answer is a), then in fact the higher purpose doesn't belong to the human; it is our mission to be marionetted by the whims of the cosmos. People keep themselves busy by 1) writing a new paradigm and surrounding it in just enough mysticism to get others to follow along; 2) inheriting one of these belief systems and arguing with others about the semantics of the system, either disliking or outright hating the people who disagree; or 3) taking what they find to be personally meaningful from the greater philosophy, living their life, and not having to argue with anyone about it.
If the answer is b), then the higher purpose is just something to pass the time with, since life is a chemical and magnetic process with no great underlying intelligence. Meaning cannot be applied to it beyond that, otherwise it falls under a) all of the sudden. Joy is as meaningless a response as anger, indifference as noble as altruism. Entertainment, passion, love, or art are useless endeavors, since they serve no purpose to the survival of the organism. They produce a chemical response, but only if they are seen to be above the basic experience of simple organic survival - and if they are above it, then again, we go back to category a).
I have never felt comfortable (or taken seriously) the idea of the Great Big Cosmic Vending Machine in the Sky, nor do I believe (entirely) that this is all a great big accident of science, bitch. I suppose I am category a.5) There is an organizing intelligence that underlies the whole show, but it is certainly not the ones the masses abide by; there is something to the chaos theory as well. Intelligent foundation, free will to act, divine response, free response. The notion of me as a separate creature to the intelligent foundation is untenable - it supposes I somehow emerge from a divine source, am disconnected by the process and have to reconnect for some purpose that no one agrees on, but is just too gosh-darn amazing to dismiss. Codswallop, I say.
The beauty is, it doesn't matter if anyone agrees or disagrees. That silly-nilly we call 'ego' (something we envision as an imp of the mind, when it is, in fact, nothing more than a set of responses to others' demands) needs you to agree. And your silly ego needs me to approve of you. What if we were just thought processes - bodies didn't exist?
We wouldn't have to work for a living, since there would be no resources to produce or protect. Money would serve no purpose. Sex would be unnecessary. We wouldn't be able to compare possessions. We would no longer need to fear one another's egalitarian illusions.
Our relationships to others are just pure thought. How easily we can go from love to hate with nothing having actually taken place besides a thought - even if a mistaken one. Just as easily, we can go from friendship to "greater" love through a simple turn of a thought.
We go from addict to sober with a single thought. Sure, a lot of preparation leads up to that quantum moment - but it takes just a simple "I'm done" to end a bad habit.
Thoughts, whether "out of the blue" or trained responses, are the marrow of this thing we call life. Our bodies and our physical possessions and our borders and our paychecks and so on are just extraneous things that happen because we're somehow trapped in bodies. Our experience of life is expressed through the limitations of our language boxes. Can you describe the taste of a pineapple to me, accurately, if I've never tasted one? You might give me an idea, but it's only experience that gives me the real answer. No matter what words you use, my thoughts are better informed by personal experience. My notions of the Big Creative Force (and the fact that I am an extension of it, not a separate unholy thing that was cast here into this life and forced to answer for it) make sense to me, and in a way that transcends language. Words are insufficient, as this journal entry aptly demonstrates.
This, and any entry by anyone ever, is just the result of some wisp of source energy dismantling its higher message through the great limitations of language. It plasters itself on the screen, waiting for some other extension of source energy to witness it, respond through the limitations of its own language. Why we do it, I may never understand. Or maybe I will. Whatever the case, this human experience seems designed to dumb down the spiritual one. (Unless, of course, it's all just a chemical/magnetic accident to you - and having read this, you have outed yourself as a category a).)
