They say that just after the beginning of our race. In fact, right after our exclusion from a certain botanically-themed Auschwitz of our pure origin. They say that there were angels who came down to teach us the ways of living. Those sweet, winged creatures who taught us how to smelt metals, how to use plants as medicine, how to write and the power of numbers. Those beasts that should have taught us one thing above all else, how to survive the god-shaped hole in our hearts.
Now, anyone who knows me knows that my ‘god-shaped hole’ idea (as well as not being original) is not literally a hole awaiting the puzzle piece of the almighty to complete it, but is in fact actually a inexplicably tricky void in my life that seems to contain limitless sadness and depression without source, nor any signs of ceasing.
To the void, I raise a glass. You have not claimed me yet, though you fought admirably.
I’m coming out of a depression right now, which is good, but the transition always leaves me waxing lyrical on the miracle that I managed to keep going. After all, anyone continually in pain would not be altogether unhappy to see an end to it.
The void is a lack of purpose. A lack of meaning. The void, for me, is made of the great unanswered question. The one that I feel needs answering, if I am to make it to a ‘Notebook’-esk ending to my life. The wrinkled splendor of closed-eyes, a spittle-wetted pillow and no further need for breath.
In short, I want to know why I’m here. I want simply to have a reason to go on. I want a flicker of passion for life. I want… nay! Recklessly seek out a purpose to this mess of life.
Back to the bible, albeit briefly. In the garden of Eden there were two trees. The Tree of Knowledge (from whence we ate) and The Tree of Life (of which we did not partake).
So did the Fruit of Knowledge give us curiosity as a form of stomach upset? Do I ache, like many questioning minds before me, because there is one question we need to find some answer to. Even if it is ‘we’ who create it for ourselves?
The puzzle for me was in the choice presented. Here’s how I see it.
Would one choose the ability to understand the universe (The Tree of Knowledge’s boon) over, say eternal life (granted by The Tree of Life’s fruit)?
I would have chosen The Tree of Life because, simply, I have the long-held belief that we’d all be living in a paradise if we didn’t know anything of the world (or sin) – (We’d still be wandering about like children without a rusty Sword of Damocles above us. Or upturned hourglass, if you prefer that analogy).
Now, I’ve met a fair few who were greedy enough to say both and excepting that there was possibly that choice, I would have to say that would have put us in a worse hell than we’re in right now. With knowledge of the almighty but no way of connecting with him. More logically with this unanswerable question and a maddening progression of days to linger on it. Or in my case, with depression and no chance of parole.
Not that I’m religious. (How many times can I say that before it becomes clear that’s how I’ve been programed since birth?) But I do put things in this format, simply because it helps me form my arguments – I know what I’m saying with these words, so do indulge me.
Not that I’m suicidal, anymore. (Not at this point anyway.)
Anyway. In the beginning angels came and gave us knowledge of very little of value, we learnt a lot for ourselves and still we’re faced with a question that we must become delusional to answer. Only the problem is, I’m not all that delusional right now. I don’t hear god. I don’t believe in anything. Indeed, some of the smartest men and women in history were driven mad by it.
Not that I’m a genius – though I am a thinking man. A man who cares (who has no choice but to) and who cannot fabricate an answer to console himself with.
So that is where I am. Tired after so long holding back an escape from my problem. This is where I’m left. Dropped off with the refreshed attempt to live, but nothing to live for. So on with the parade, until I run out of the energy needed to keep the question at bay. Until the depression looms over me again and I slip back on myself. Until I again have to hold back the cowards way out.
Or perhaps the very answer itself, what if life is a puzzle box and the idea is to find the quickest way out? (Never-mind, I’m being silly)
Anyway this is my cycle.
And… well… what’s more like life?
