When we finished talking the other day I couldn’t help but feel I left you hanging. You’ve been my friend for many, many years and even though I couldn’t completely explain what it all means, I felt as though I just gave you some pat, standard answers. I apologize for that.

But it’s a tough question, “what’s the meaning of life?” You and I have known for years that there’s more to our saga than is apparent in everyday, 9-5 life. We’ve spoken many times about there being invisibles, intangibles that help us or benevolently exist as buffers or soft bumpers gently bouncing us in more or less the proper direction if we are sensitive enough to feel them.

And you, with your Protestant upbringing, have long felt the tug of higher planes and beings who, even though you were indoctrinated more than most, still hold a tender place in your soul. So really, your question doesn’t ask if there’s a greater construct or wider plans, but more, what do we do with this information once it’s firmly taken hold in our gut.

I hear you. I think billions of humans hear you too. They’ve heard your question since conscious thought was a part of primitive humanity. It has plagued civilization throughout the millenniums and yes, I used the word “plague.” In some aspects it gets in our way and causes undue stress. But in other ways it forces us to ask why we bother getting up in the morning.

I am by no means a sage, advisor or guidance counselor. Nor did my run-in with leukemia bring out a mystical, magical essence no matter how badly I wished it would have. I’m just another guy with another blog trying to explain things through my own warped perspective. But maybe, just maybe, my viewpoint makes sense to you.

I think we’re here, as my favorite author Richard Bach writes, to learn and to love. But we’re also here to experience, form inter-tangled relationships, get dirty and messy and deal with issues that we haven’t fully dealt with in this or previous lifetimes.

Yes, I’m one of those odd ducks who feels our souls have been around forever and have visited this and other realms again and again. It seems to me that when we jump off this plane: we rest up for a while in the afterworld, have some amazing ambrosia, catch up with our pen pals then decide to do it all over again only this time as pygmies or dolphins or pretzel thieves.

But why? Why experience life? How the heck should I know? But I do know this; the very fact that you and I communicated a few days ago and the very fact that we’ve been friends for so long is part of the answer. We are sharing this acid trip along with zillions of others past, present and future. So you have to find stuff along the way that juices you and makes the struggle worthwhile and fun.

You’ve done that. You have your family and your travels and your seeking. So maybe if you’re looking for an answer, flip it around and look at the question. Why are we doing this? Maybe partly it’s to ask why we’re doing this. See my point? By simply asking the question you have received your answer.

Tricky, eh?

If that doesn’t help; if finding the answer in amongst the question is too trite for you, I apologize. I’ve given you the learning/loving/connection spiel. So the only other thing I can try is to share where I’ve struck gold.

I’ve found meaning in sharing my life with others. I’ve found meaning through my family. I’ve found meaning through travel. I’ve found meaning through the visual arts. I’ve found meaning through yanking words out of nowhere and tapping them into submission. I’ve found meaning through teaching. I’ve found meaning through the love of friends. I’ve found meaning through deep, intimate love. I’ve found meaning through deep, intimate food. I’ve found meaning through humor. I’ve found lint in my pockets.

That’s about the best I can do and I should’ve told you all this earlier. But that’s the thing about conversations; they can last a lifetime.