“Life is meaningless. The best you can do is find a good restaurant.” -Woody Allen
My recent trip down to New Mexico and my great concern for my father’s health, has left me feeling like I’m living in a dream. Half the time I’m wondering about the meaning of life, and the other half I’m envying my puppy Rasta and his inability to ever consider such heavy thoughts. Mostly I think he has it right: Live each day for the fun of it. Enjoy every meal, every toy and every hug as if it were your last.
I find myself questioning everything we choose to do with our lives. What is worth the effort of doing and why? I know most of us don’t have the freedom to question these types of things. We just go to work everyday and come home and then decide that is the purpose for our life. But I do have the time to think about all of this. Why bother when years from now no one will know the difference? How did my father decide that producing botany books gave his life purpose? It is so hard to find anything to believe in sometimes!
These are the kinds of thoughts I had after I lost my job back in the spring of 2004. What did I come here to do? It has been a slow process for me to find anything that is truly worth my time. What book is worth writing? What difference will this make to anyone else?
When I feel this way I start listening to my intuition carefully. I have learned that my inner wisdom is my best guide. It not only tells me what my next project is but, with a subtle hand, guides me back to the wisdom of my own heart. That wisdom insisted that I produce: How To Believe In Love Again: Opening to Forgiveness, Trust and Your Own Inner Wisdom.
“What do we live for if it is not to make life less difficult for each other.” – George Eliot