I hate to play into the Californian stereotype, but in a recent meditation I imagined myself out in the far reaches of space, gazillions of miles away from earth. I was there because I wanted to visualize just how small earth would look from that vantage point. And beyond that, how small I would look.
The answer: Too small to rationally conclude that I existed at all.
And yet, as the people who know me will attest, I do exist. So the next question I asked from my perch at the edge of the universe was one humankind has been asking for ages: Given my speck-like existence, why am I here? What purpose could I possibly serve?
I want to be clear that I didn’t ask that question because I was in the midst of some existential crisis. I’m happy to be alive, whether there’s a purpose to it all or not. I was just genuinely curious. If there is a reason, I thought it would be cool to know what it was.
And here, to me, is the really surprising part: The universe replied.
I say it’s surprising because given how long this question has preoccupied and perplexed our species, you’d think the universe must have very strict protocols as to who gets to know. All I can say is, maybe I caught it on a good day.
Anyway, here’s the answer I got — brief, clear and, I might add, delivered in a soothing, gender-neutral voice:
You’re here because you’re wanted.
Boom. That was it. The answer, in toto. I knew no more was coming because there was no more to say. Had I hung around waiting for elaboration, all I would have heard was background radiation — the universe’s version of a dial tone.
Which was fine with me, because I was happy with that answer. Maybe it’s just my abandonment issues, but I couldn’t imagine a better reason to exist. I’m not here to justify myself, to earn my right to be here, to prove my worth. I’m here simply because I’m wanted here. End of story.
Or maybe…end of half the story. Because the more I thought about the answer, the more I thought about its obvious implications.
I started thinking what it would be like if someone invited me to their house, and they gave me everything I needed without asking anything in return. They fed me, clothed me, entertained me, and surrounded me with unbelievable vistas of awe and beauty. And all I had to do was take it in and enjoy it.
For awhile — maybe even a long while — I might be happy with that arrangement. But eventually I’d have to notice how hard my hosts were working. I’d have to see all the time and energy it took to provide me with all those gifts. And although I’d been made to feel one hundred percent welcome, and worthy of everything I’d been given simply because I existed, at some point the magnitude of my hosts’ generosity would feel so overwhelming that I’d have to ask:
“Hey, anything I can do to help?”
And that, I realized, was the full answer to my question. Part one is that we’re here because we’re wanted, because we’re loved. And part two — so obvious to the universe that it doesn’t bear mentioning, apparently — is that by being loved, we will, eventually, love in return. We will want to support and be part of the creative process that keeps this home ready to receive the next generation of wanted arrivals. The next generation to be transformed by love.
Now, is that really why we’re here? Is that really the plan?
Is there even any plan at all?
I guess that’s up to each of us to decide. To ask the question, and then see what answer we get. For now, I have my answer, and like I said, I’m happy with it.
Thanks for reading, and have a great (loving) weekend.
Kern
Note: I’ll be on vacation the month of May. Back in June.