We live for meaning. Meaning itself is the meaning of (rational) life.
I become increasingly aware of it the more of it I find; the more I learn, the more I see, the more complex the world becomes around me as the mysteries of its intricate mechanisms and structures are revealed to my conscious mind, or at least partially exposed. I can be deeply moved to a ground-breaking, soul-shaking degree through any of my senses by a variety of catalysators. Cliché alert, but a certain musical piece —maybe even specifically one part in particular of a certain musical piece— CAN elevate my spirit to the stratosphere; a nice painting is not just pleasant if the way the light is captured and presented filters, portrays and enhances the very elements that shape its obvious and universal appeal in the real, natural world. Such a thing can leave me longingly staring at it for a long time. But strangely enough, such relatively relatable and obvious subjects don’t hold that attention-grabbing ability from my very core exclusively. Taken to the countryside, chances are I‘ll stare at a cow for the same amount of time, if not longer. What are the odds of that exact combination of physical attributes being put together over millions of years to produce that exact result. What features of its anatomy and behavior can be explained by which evolutive pressures and incentives. How does she perceive reality. To what extent is the fashion and intensity of the subjective reality of pain produced and transmitted by her peripheral nerve endings comparable to humans’, to what extent does it differ. In this sense, how does she see in the broadest sense possible. What is she seeing now. What´s the nearest she is able to accommodate to still get a sharp macular focal point. Is she even able to accommodate. Look at those eyes, by the way, they can make anyone’s heart melt. Why would and should a human experience such feelings of tenderness towards a cow. And so on. And finally, I get so pleasantly flustered and overjoyed by deeply engaging and challenging conversation with an uninterrupted, dynamic flow of interconnecting ideas with the potential to be dissected exponentially into infinity. This phenomenon constitutes jet another cliché as I suppose it is what’s most commonly referred to as “human connection”. For me, it immediately translates into higher respect and warm appreciation towards the holder of that interactive capacity. Added into the equation the variable of gender, when female it’ll additionally enhance a feeling of sororal fondness, when male that of enthralling attraction. Thus, to me, almost everything with soul-touching potential falls into one of three categories: natural phenomena, human artistic creation and “human connection”. In just one day, I´ve had the privilege of experiencing all those four forms and sub-forms of exhilarating sensory overload, leaving me completely short-term hypnotized and mid-term inspired, but also somewhat mentally inebriated. I feel very much alive and in this state of gripping intoxication everything seems both completely pointless and intangibly transcendental at the same time.
