People are strange, to borrow a phrase from The Doors.
My dog doesn’t spend a lot of time trying to figure out what his purpose in life is, or finding the meaning in his world. He’s just a dog. He sleeps, goes on walks, chases birds, eats, poops, demands snuggles and then goes to sleep to wake up and do it all again. He’s always happy to see me. He always barks at other dogs. He never sits down and thinks, why would I greet that lady happily when she left me here all by myself? He never wonders why do I bark at that dog on the street? He just does stuff.
Humans are the ones who wonder. We are the ones that feel connected to something larger. We want motivation and purpose. Any amount of suffering is manageable if we understand the purpose. Pain without purpose is what we find difficult.
My dog doesn’t have a sense of purpose, but does this mean his life is without meaning? No! He has, in his own little way had an impact on our family. We consider him a gift from God.
When Wes was in the hospital, our dog was my constant companion. I took him everywhere, except the hospital. He was a stabilizing force. No human could have been more consistent or compassionate. He had a purpose. He distracted me, drew me outdoors, helped me keep life in perspective. All without talking, giving advice or judging me.
Perhaps, we also have a purpose of which we are unaware. Of course, we can find meaning in our relationships and our adventures. But maybe we have meaning beyond. A purpose that is part of a larger story. A purpose that will be clear one day when we reach the end of the story.
Roberta Writes 