There comes a point in every person's life where they start to question the universe. They start to wonder what is the purpose of life or why they were given what they were given biologically, i.e. lazy eye, too short, too tall, too fat, cancer….etc.
Maybe it started with a simple situation (which is how most questioning begins.) Maybe they were walking in their neighborhood and noticed all the houses/apartment/whatever were the same and this struck them as odd. Maybe someone pushed them a bit too far and they realized life didn't have to be the way it currently is running.
Whatever the case, (I could go on for another page and a half with examples.) Something has happened big or small and now everything is questioned. The world is topsy-turvy and all you can do is type WTF over and over in your blog.
I find it all fascinating. Not because life is being questioned, that has been done since the day homo sapiens arrived on the planet, but because everyone eventually does question life and their purpose. I mean everyone.
True, it can be avoided for a long time. It could be avoided in rituals, routines, and hobbies but even rituals lose their meaning, routines get broken and hobbies become boring.
Many might put their faith into getting a house, getting married, having kids and the whole suburbia dream. It's security. It's about having somewhere symmetrical to hang your hat and look out your freshly windexed windows watching the world pass by as you sip on you fat-free mocha latte from Starbucks.
It doesn't last forever however. Houses get foreclosed on, marriages fail, and children can be disappointing.
Others put their faith in religion. The dive into their faith blindly hoping that the big guy on the other side of forever knows what the hell he is doing because they sure don't.
But then there comes the day when someone dies. Or maybe they receive news that cancer is growing inside a loved one and in a month they will be reduced to a heap of dying skin and bones.
Of course the one who is dying from cancer was one of the "good ones". They went to church every day and even gave 15 cents a day to an orphan in Sudan while you look on their bedside, scratching your head because you feel like it should be you on chemotherapy. After all you don't give a damn about children in the Sudan and you once cheated on your lover. "Where is God now?" you think to yourself.
Hobbies are the easiest way to start the questioning process. If it's any kind of hobby where you need to be athletic there will come a point where your body will give out on you leaving you only with memories of the "glory days". If you're a writer you will get blocked or find out you just plain suck. If you're an artist you will second guess yourself or lose inspiration. There is all this pressure that you can never live up to the last work you just completed because God forbid you flop.
So now you're questioning your existence during the commercials of Grey's anatomy or on your commute to work.
What is the purpose?
Many of my friends have their own unique perspective. Some think this world is a waste of time and you won't know what is what until you die (if we are really here in the first place that is). Others think it is simply because we need to keep making babies.
My fav (That's right, I used "fav") theory for why we are here on Earth comes from my nana.
"Nana?" I asked her while we were eating lunch. "Why do you think we are here? What do you think your purpose is?"
She looked at me, swallowed mashed potatoes and said in her thick mountain woman accent.
"Listen Nancy Drew we are here for one reason. God is a sick, perverted, bastard with a twisted sense of humor. We are here so he can fuck with us when he gets bored. Now let's hurry up and get out of here, I have got the gas bad and I know that lady behind me can smell the ones I have squeaked out."
That's what I get for questioning the universe.
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
Laurel, as one who has experienced cancer -- and the subsequent death of her high school sweetheart and husband of 27 years -- I can honestly say my belief in God is stronger than before.
C.S. Lewis said it best when he said that if you believe in a loving God (and to me there is so much evidence, as well as my personal experience, to support that), then God's relation to our suffering is one of skilled surgeon to patient. A skilled surgeon knows that pain will occur--yet he/she must keep cutting until the job is done because to leave the job half-finished would be far crueler indeed.
Sandra Eggers
Author
Dying Body, Growing Faith