Born into a world with no opportunity to give our consent. From the outset well meaning people condition us as to how to think, how to act, how to feel, and how to react.
All with the well meaning intent to prepare us for life, and oftentimes for an “after life”.
When we sift through the information which is our life (within the specific context of our own existence)
When we discard preconceptions (to the best of our ability).
When we reflect without reserved ideology (to the best of our ability)
When we reduce our perspective to the observable and the believable (based upon our limited knowledge of the vastness of all that is)
Then what remains?
Life with no apparent inherent meaning in a Universe indifferent to our well being? So it would seem.
The history of humanity is filled with efforts to create an inherent meaning to it all by creating concepts of schemers implementing divine schemes.
Yet no such ideology has rational merit, nor can the concept of the divine offer reasonable explanation as to the brutal reality of an indifferent Universe.
And so there remains an obvious conclusion based upon the limits of the observable:
Life seems to be an experience of existence with no apparent meaning within a Universe which is indifferent to our well being.
And so what of it? Shall we plunge ourselves into mental despair merely because the illusions of our preconceptions prove vulnerable to the tests of reason? Must there be an inherent meaning in order for life to be an enjoyable experience? Must the tree have a reason for being in order to flourish in its place? Does the duck preoccupy itself with concerns of an afterlife as it swims across the pond? Shall we not merely live for no other reason than we are alive? Shall we not rather accept our existence based upon the mere fact that we are?
My general thoughts in closing:
There is no plan, so there is no need to study.
There is no destiny, so no there is no need to prepare.
There is no hope, so there are no unrealistic expectations.
There are no fears of an eternal reckoning, neither for ourselves or for our loved ones; so there is no need to be preoccupied with such.
There is life.
There is death.
Life is abundant with daily apprehensions, both for ourselves and for our loved ones, without compounding such with concerns which are neither real nor practical.
Or so it seems to me.