I've been reading Douglas Coupland's Girlfriend In A Coma. I'd recommend it, it's a good book (I've only got 20 pages left, so I'm hoping I won't regret saying that). This isn't a review of that book though.
One of the things that book is about is how "empty" modern life is. It's a feeling I've been having lately. It's the eternal question: what's the meaning of life?
I'm not holding out for an answer from the book, indeed I'm not holding out for any one answer, as I suppose there are as many answers as there are people. Not that I'm saying everyone has a cosmic purpose, I'm just saying different people have different values, and therefore the meaning they give to their life will be different. For example, a suicide bomber's meaning will be different to a fashion model's meaning - as well it should.
To this end, I suppose I've been trying to figure out what I want the meaning, or purpose, of my life to be.
When I was a kid, this was a really easy thing, because I didn't realise there'd be anything stopping me doing whatever the hell I want. And, in a way, there still isn't - the biggest hurdle is my own inhibitions.
Why shouldn't I travel more? because I'm scare of it.
Why shouldn't I work for myself? because I'm scared of it not working.
Having to think about Amy is also a good excuse for not doing stuff too - I have to think about her fears, or at least I can think that some of my own fears are hers.
When I was really young, I was happy to accept the Jesus crap that my parents told me. Losing that left a big a hole, which I suppose I've filled with veganism (at least you can argue for it logically!), but left me without a purpose to my life.
Anyway, this is kind of where I'm at with it - What do I want to do with my life?
I know some things I don't want to do with my life:
- Spend it writing the same lines of data access code that I've written 1000 times before.
- Doing evil (well, not serious evil).
- Nothing.
- Being addicted to anything.
- Being ill.
But, they don't really help answer the question, especially if there are a near infinite number of possibilities.
The flip side to this is, of course, my ability to change. If I decide to be an astronaut (yeah, it should have been on the list above...), am I able to change myself sufficiently to achieve that? Am I using this as another excuse not to even try?
So many questions...all I need now is to come up with some answers.
One thing - does this feeling disappear when I pass 30? Most of my friends above that age seem really sorted out - at least spiritually (maybe philosophically is a better term?).