Someone asked me some months ago “What gives my life meaning”, I thought long and hard. Is it a goal, maybe something like becoming a successful writer or overcoming a fear. Perhaps it’s about being healthy, raising happy and confident kids or a crusade that touches your heart. I kept coming back to the same thing over and over. And I thought no that can’t be it, doesn’t it have to be something else, but however hard I try I can’t escape this overwhelming yearning.
Love, pure and simple, not the love of a child or a parent, or platonic love of a friend, I already have that and am I grateful for it, more than I could ever say. I’m talking about the love that gives you a sense of belonging, physical, emotional, a friend, someone to come home to and share your day, someone who doesn’t criticise or judge. Someone to hold you when your day has been just awful. That’s when the realisation of what’s missing in my life is so very tangible, and the loneliness and pain is overwhelming and you find yourself wishing so hard for someone to make contact with a silly, funny email (no Amish elevator jokes though thank you), or a “Hey just thinking of you” text, or a call. Just to know someone has just at that moment thought of you. But my search continues, and maybe one day it will come or maybe I will also have to accept that it may never find me, but for now that search is what drives me.
But perhaps our life’s meaning shouldn’t be about that one aim but a continual searching, a journey at times joyful but not always, because if we stop searching and growing, we become stagnant, contentment becomes contempt. So with that in mind my life’s meaning is searching for that which eludes me, but I won’t say no to love.
So what if my striving for love is finally realised, then chocolate, I guess it’s about finding the perfect chocolate bar, smooth, rich and creamy and also makes you lose weight. Ok diet gurus, there’s a goal for you and don’t take any short-cuts, just adding a laxative is a big no no. No one’s going to thank you for making them run to the bathroom several times a day after eating 1 or 20 of them. Maybe then I could die happy and thin.
You know maybe I’ll just forget about love and stick with the chocolate. Chocolate and denial, that works too.