What is the meaning of life? I think I get the question, but do I really, now? Does anyone truly know what that question means? Perhaps no: so, thus in its vague enigma does the question remain unanswered. The gut understands, but not the head — and not the heart. The gut understands, so we keep asking it. If the head understood, we might take the question more seriously, and not dismiss it out of hand, that it is unanswerable. If the heart understood, perhaps billions of prayers would reach Heaven asking for its answer, and surely one of these would hit the mark. As it is, we ask it once or twice every once in a while, and there is only silence in response.
What is the meaning of life? Maybe it is unanswerable, after all, that maybe mine would be a different answer to the question than yours. Maybe. But my gut, which knows the question, tells me there is a universal answer somewhere. Every philosopher (and poet) dreams of being the one to solve this ultimate what. This ultimate why. Who knows? I think I will keep asking: maybe there is a prize for the billionth customer of the Question, and that maybe it is simply a matter of the right combination of gut, mind, and heart that will unlock this treasure of treasures. The secret of the universe, to open (finally) to someone. Maybe me. Maybe you.
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9:49am tuesday, 24th december
I Like the idea of there being a prize. What would it be? Have a good Christmas Stand.
Stand
10:47pm tuesday, 24th december
I just hope the prize wouldn't be a free subscription to Soap Opera Digest. Merry Christmas.
x
7:30pm saturday, 28th december
The prize for the billionth customer is a ticket to the library where all the lost books go.
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Stand
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