We are all part of something, even if in our most isolated moments, that something is unimaginably elusive. There exists a thread of ontological reassurance, that we are in fact here, and some of us are possessed of the idea.
In the threads of our moments, we find entwined something quintessential, the experience we are on. It charts its own, meandering course, and offers its own limitless brand of imagination, one we are so familiar to that it loses its fantastical potential.
We are reminiscent of ourselves and no greater sign of embracing the circle of life is there. To have walked the path, to have met the strangers that confirm that your once, naive hope of an asserted self, materialises into something proven actual, by time’s marching orders.
That we can experience this, alone confirms that we are meant to discover the meaning of life is inherent to the meaning in hoping for one, and with that life is a merry dance, of hoping to find a partner, to practice the steps learned in the initial instructions.
In each meaningless interaction, meaning exists to be enticed, but we see the curios from the other side of the window. We are not sure we want to commit, but what if for a moment, we did. What if we let someone in, for as long as they were comfortable.
Altogether, we must try, it is our commitment to effort that defines us. It is our lingering trust in the collective experience that permeates far in excess of our imagination, and if we are ever so fortunate, we will resonate for a moment, and someone will feel like they are alive.