A Night of Realization with my Father

So I was sitting next to my father in the hospital last night, watching Stephen Hawking’s Grand Design show while he slept. The episode was about the meaning of life. The episode ended with the conclusion that reality, and the meaning of life, is subjective to each individual. It really got me thinking about my own meaning to life. I had an early religious upbringing, and eventually grew out of it. I grew out of it by the process of realization that there was no body looking out for me, nobody was answering my prayers. Through this experience, there were people who really were looking out for me; my family. My parents raised me to be kind, gentle, and caring for others. I try hard every day to keep an open mind about the world. Every day I learn more about life and it makes me a better person.

My meaning for life, the meaning that I have created for myself, is far better than any meaning I could have ever been given. I love my family, I love my friends, I take care of those who I love, I strive to know more about the world than I knew the day before, I want to help others understand the beauty of science, the world, and the universe. These traits, among others, are what make my life meaningful. I want to make a difference, if not in the world then in the lives of a few. When I make someone I don’t know smile, when I make them feel happy and show them kindness, it makes me feel better about my life. I’m pursuing a career in science because only through science will we make our lives better. Watching my father fight through pancreatitis last year and win, and this current surgery, inspires me. It inspires me to strive to make a contribution to this world; so that I may help save another individual’s loved one.

I don’t need special stories about the world, or about the so-called true meaning for life, to make my life meaningful. I’ve learned over the past few years that what is true around us, family, friends, love, is much more beautiful than anything else. I think it’s a shame that we can’t put our differences aside, and reassess what is truly important in our lives. Our religions, our race, our sexual orientation, all don’t matter we’re on our death bed, reviewing our lives and what we did in our short time on this beautiful planet. When it all comes down to it, I make my own meaning for my life, I make my own destiny, and only I have the power to control it. I don’t know if anyone will read this, I don’t expect anybody to. But if you do read this, think about what truly matters in your life. Where does the meaning of your life come from?

(This is from a while ago but I wanted to share it)