Hello friend,
The older I get, the more questions I have. Some get answered, some never do. Growing up, I thought I’d have less questions and all the answers as an adult. Turns out, the only answers life gives you are from your own experiences, and are only truly understandable from your perspective. I do not have your answers — no one else does — but I can share some of mine. Here’s what I know right now, as I write to you.
So, what’s life’s greatest joy? A decade ago, I would’ve told you it’s in accomplishing something big, or finally loving yourself. Today, I understand that it has less to do with you, and more to do with those around you. To witness someone else’s journey through existence, and to be cherished by them for choosing to do so. That’s it. Be it a friend, a lover, a child, a parent, or a sibling; it doesn’t get better than being entrusted with another’s joy.
That reminds me of a friend’s answer to a question I’ve been asking myself since I was a kid: can one person change the world? My friend answered, “No. Best you can do is impact the lives of those around you.” I still believe that, and I would add that trying to change the world comes at a great cost to yourself and those that love you. It’s foolish to expect the entire planet to agree with your opinion; no one has ever managed that. We can’t even all agree on something as simple as Love, and the closest many of us have come to a consensus is when we blame The Other for our woes. “It’s not my fault I’m in this mess, it’s their fault.” It’s interesting how some of those we choose to change this world often say something along those lines, and we, the masses, fall for it. I believe you’re better off impacting one life, that would impact another, and so on — until some day, maybe, eventually your small corner of the world becomes a better place.
And what about God; is a higher power real? I think so. I hope so. I pray every night that that’s true. Partly because I now have way too much to lose — even though I know nothing belongs to me — and partly because there’s way too much about this life that I can’t explain. I had a conversation with my wife the other day on divinity, and I told her I do not think people are divine. Moments can be divine — so can circumstances and all that is intangible — but not humans. Not what is tangible. Because what can be touched can be described and is considered beautiful because it is, or can be, flawed. But the divine cannot fully be defined. My wife disagreed, saying that, “People can have something divine in them,” and that “Flaws don’t mean someone can’t be divine. In fact fact, they can highlight what’s divine about them.” I like that and she’s probably right — as she often is. Anyway, I hope a higher power watches over me and those I love. Though I don’t have a specific name for it other than just ‘God’, and the only teaching I follow from its messengers is the one they all agree on: Love.
Okay, so what’s one question I can’t answer? A few weeks ago, I was told that a once-close friend, who I hadn’t talked to in years, passed away. I had let something get in the way of what I once considered a brotherhood. A few days before I turned a year older, I sat in a small chapel during his memorial, and I kept asking myself, “How do you fit memories into a box?“ I do not know how to reply to loss; I’ve never really had to. At least not to a loss that’s so... final. And yet, there I was staring at a casket, wondering how he could lay inside it. I still don’t have an answer, and I might never have one.
So, what’s the whole point of this? What’s the point of life? My dear friend, I believe I found an answer to this while writing to you — as is often the case when I put my thoughts on paper. Maybe the whole point is to not dwell on so many questions. Maybe it’s simply to live, to see others live, to touch others’ lives, to experience the divine, and to cherish the memories that remain beyond life.
I hope you live fully, my friend.
Yours,
Ivan
P.S.: I like to write these posts down in notebooks before I type them out. Here’s the actual first draft.
