If you’re like me (and especially if you write about this stuff every day like I do), it’s easy to get your mind caught in the hamster wheel of existentialism.
Why are we here?
What are we here to do?
Why do we exist?
Where do we come from?
What is my truth?
Questions like these are wonderful. They’re important. Delving into these questions is an integral part of our nature as self-reflecting, thinking, imagining beings.
But we must be careful not to waste too much of our wondrous, short, human experience pondering them. It’s a trap we can fall into for a long, long time.
Pouring through spiritual texts, meditating, affirming, etc. are all great. But we can easily use compulsive existentialism as a way to hide from our life. As a form of escapism.
Existentialism is most worthy of our attention if it helps us live this human experience to the fullest.
No meditation can compare to flying down a mountain on a fresh powder day or a walk with a loved one in an aspen grove during the fall.
No incense can compare to fresh baking bread in the kitchen.
No yoga routine can compare to an evening spent laughing with friends around a fire.
No zen koan can compare to the befuddlement of parenthood.
If we’re stuck with out head in the clouds, we can easily miss the existential truths presenting themselves to us right before our eyes in our work, our relationships, and every living moment in between.