Dud3s

More and more I find that it's less about what life means to me and more about what I mean to life; less about what I ask of life, and more about what life asks of me. To that end, the purpose of life becomes clear: to benefit the world by your presence. How you can best do that is the question.

My answer? It seems I'm here to teach, and to make people think. I have a natural stage presence, enjoy the process of learning, and am fairly competent and disseminating that knowledge.

Not to hurt others, but I occasionally do.
Not to be an impediment to others, but I sometimes am.
Not to stand in the way of others' happiness, but it's happened.

To help others grow, but I often fail.
To love others, though it sometimes seems I don't.
To be of use to people who need it, but I'm not sure I can?

Something like that, I suppose...

Good question. Wish we all just could say "42" and be done with it, but we can't. Good reminder of that.

I am.

Long winded version if you follow the link.

I think the meaning of my life is to hear and listen to children and teenagers.. This extends to having a positive impact on them. This thing is invisible and can't be measured but I know when it exists, even if it's only a few seconds.

I think the purpose of my life is the hope of being a part of something that's bigger than myself. Just the pure recognition that everything doesn't end at me, even for myself personally. You might interpret that as merely "belonging," which is partially true - but I guess to narrow that down I tend to be rather selective about what exactly I choose to be a part of. So as long as it has a mission that I agree with, that is something I'd like to be a part of.

The answer is simple.

It's 42.

Love the question though. Though it's deceptively long enough to do a post on. Which I shall get to right away.

There we go. My long but with a point answer.

Turns out my life has meaning, too.

I am the essence of overconfidence! I am speculation, adventure; the spirit of pursuit; the stag howling for its winsome yet anonymous mate. I am the love call of evolution; the perfume and color of the flowers as they offer their pollen to the gentle buzz of the bees. I am sex itself, gentlemen. I am life. I am appetite! :-)

I was reading my reader and came upon two interesting posts, as my answer would be to have purpose, these posts were significant in referring to this question.

Just thought I'd share as I'm considering doing a post on this - after I feed some basketball fans.

This quote from Victor Frankl appearing at the end of this Easer/Holocaust post at
The Alien Next Door
"Again and again I therefore admonish my students in Europe and America: Don't aim at success - the more you aim at it and make it a target, the more you are going to miss it. For success, like happiness, cannot be pursued; it must ensue, and it only does so as the unintended side effect of one's personal dedication to a cause greater than oneself or as the by-product of one's surrender to a person other than oneself. Happiness must happen, and the same holds for success: you have to let it happen by not caring about it. I want you to listen to what your conscience commands you to do and go on to carry it out to the best of your knowledge. Then you will live to see that in the long-run - in the long-run, I say! - success will follow you precisely because you had forgotten to think about it."

and this end paragraph from a post from the blog referenced in the referred post above
" The difference between being crucified and lying in comfort is nihil compared to the difference between purpose and purposelessness. What all men seek is equally distant to the most unequal of men, and equally worthy of the most unequal of sacrifices."

Well, it's weird. I've always felt a number of things that I can't explain or comprehend in full. But I am certain that they play a role in what gives meaning to my life.
In first instance, I feel completely empathetic to a lot of major crisis' people go through. They could be friends or strangers, but whatever the case or the victim, I feel so deep in what they're involved in, it's almost as if I was the sufferer. I've lost sleep, gotten physically ill, experienced characteristics of depression. I've gotten heart palpitations, tremors, and crying spurts....it's ridiculous. It makes the concept of "putting yourself in someone else's shoes" and almost emotionally literal.
My dreams are very vivid and very specific in symbolizing certain events in my life, but only if those events are current. When the drama of the event lifts off, so do the dreams.
Right before I am about to come in contact someway, somehow to a person I've known from the past, I can't get them off my mind. It could be anyone- a friend, former lover, family member, simple acquaintence...anyone. But they will not leave my thoughts nor are they allowed to. Either I constantly hear songs or smell smells that remind me of that person. I'll come across old photos or people I know will bring them up out of the blue. This happens until I or someone I'm close with meets with that person again.
I cry everyday. Not always from sadness, but from overwhelming emotion. Emotion from parenthood, from relationships, from the past, from the beauty of life, from music. I can breakdown without warning at any time.
I have always been surrounded by change, so anything that lasts too long is uncertain to me, and i'm usually missing whatever I've acquired already because I know I won't always have it. It's like, I'm always trying to memorize whatever I feel close to for when it goes away.
I can lose myself in and marvel over very simplistic things. Everything from staring at the sky to making a character out of a gum wrapper- it all gives me this unnatural joy that almost seems absurd at how happy it makes me feel.
I guess in whole, I can say that all of these things I've mentioned involves some sort of heightened level of awarness of both myself and the world around me, but I'm still confused as to what it all connects to.
I know that I am an aspiring poet, I've been writing since I was thirteen and can't seem to stop. Sometimes I feel like my poetry gives meaning to my life , in that it creates a way for me to connect with others around me, bring inspiration in their lives. I know that I've been able to do it without being an author, though I'd love that one day, and inspiring people is what I feel connects me to being an active member of my life. Perhaps that's what my meaning is, but I can't ignore those above mentioned "puzzle pieces"- somehow I feel like they answer this question.