My thoughts on the purpose of life.
|The reason, the ultimate purpose of life has been pondered and brooded over by humans for thousands of years. Men and woman throughout the ages have devoted their lives to find this answer; philosophers from all over the world have studied and reflected on their faith and themselves but none could reach the definite purpose our lives are in existence to serve. Only thoughts are the end product of these years of study that humankind has completed.
This only supports that the ultimate purpose of life is to make yourself somehow live on. It all reverts back to the most primal and simple of instinct and thoughts: Cheating death. These people that have pondered this thought are remembered today; Confucius is remembered today for what he did two and a half thousand years ago. That is why these people have devoted their lives to this study, to find the purpose and use that to live on.
Every act, every motion, ever word, every thing that you do is done, by reflex of the subconscious, to make your self live on somehow. Sometimes it is physical, like flinching when something gets too close to you, but most of the time it is trying to make yourself live on through others, in their memory.
It is a reflex, like the gagging reflex or blinking reflex (again, trying to sustain your physical being), but much, much more complex and deeper. It is like a pulse that goes through our mind unnoticed, showing in our every action. It is our hidden objective, our true goal, known to all but our conscious self. It dictates everything we do, and controls all other reflexes, all other urges and callings.
Getting married and having children is also part of this grand subconscious goal to make yourself immortal. Your spouse and children will remember you and you will live on through their memories. When you finish yard work or planting and feel satisfied, this is because of this instinct. Your mind knows that someone or something will see those flowers and thus, your will live on in their memory. An author writes a book, it is published, and that author becomes wealthy because of it. The wealth satisfies this instinct because the more you have, the more you will live on in people’s minds. The act of people reading the book also pleases the instinct, because you know you will live on through those pages, through that binding. When someone creates graffiti on an object, the instinct is hoping that another person will see the graffiti and remember it, thus making the person even more immortal.
Scientists have been awed by the complexity of the human brain, the very thing that is inside our heads right now, interpreting these words. Is it not possible that our minds are really smarter than we, our conscious selves are? Are our minds constantly performing this reflex with a greater understanding, and possibly an ounce of premonition, than we have ever thought before?
Written for the ‘Reason for Life Contest’