The Futile Search For Reason

I suppose the question is not new or unique. People have wondered on it for centuries. Religions are based on it. Still, everytime my thoughts roll around to the subject again, I find myself fascinated. It all feels incredibly profound to me, and frustrating, because there seems to be no answer to the question ... why do I exist? Why does anyone exist?

All the parts of a machine exist so that the machine will run smoothly. A car must have it's steering wheel, and tires, and motor, and every single bolt, in order that it will serve its purpose. The road that it travels on, exists so that the car will have a smoother path on which to move forward. But what of the human being behind the wheel? Why does this person exist? And the millions of other humans behind the wheels of millions of other cars, why are they here?

Humanity is not necessary for the survival and smooth running of planet earth. In fact we are a detriment. The ground, the water, the animals and plants are all worse off because we are here. One might ask the same question of these fellow inhabitants ... why do animals exist? Plants? What are they here for? The plants nourish the animals, but why are the animals here in the first place? Are they here to feed human beings? To be our pets? Our leather boots and handbags? If humans did not exist, would animals have no reason to continue? Of course not, in fact they would be better off. But if animals did not exist, humanity would be in trouble. If animals, plants, and water did not exist, humanity could not survive. So the unhappy conclusion must be, we need them, they do not need us. And if one cannot come up with a decent reason for animals to exist, at least they are not killing the planet as we are. If they exist simply because they do, at least they live in harmony with their surroundings. Humanity meanwhile, must create unnatural objects in order to live as we are accustomed. Instead of living in a cave as a natural animal would do, we build houses and apartment buildings and condominiums. Instead of walking across the land as animals do, we smother the ground with ashphalt roads. We build cars and busses and trains that belch out horrendous gasses, polluting the air with stink and incessant noise.

I look out on my porch, and I see two wooden chairs that exist simply because human beings like to sit on something other than the ground. Planter boxes that line the borders of my porch, exist because human beings enjoy containing plants. The porch itself exists because the builder of this apartment building knew that the human beings who would inhabit this suite would like to step out of the apartment for a breath of fresh air. Inside my apartment are my furnishings that exist, again, because humanity requires these things. The food in my fridge, the fridge itself, the floor that it rests on, the wooden beams that hold up the wooden floor ... wait .... the wooden beams were once trees. Surely the original trees did not come into being so that they could be recreated into beams to frame an apartment building? In fact, if human kind did not exist, these would still be trees in a forest - home for birds, insects, and mosses. Their roots would be holding precious soil in place, and their leaves would be removing toxins from the air. Once again, humanity has taken an existing thing and recreated it to serve only us.

Even my art has a detrimental effect, adding more clutter to an overwhelmed planet. ...why does my art exist? If I answer honestly, I must say it exists for me. It was created because I was inspired. In my vanity I believed it would be worth the space it takes up, and the materials it is made of. But after I'm dead and turned to dust, most likely these things will inhabit a landfill. And so I must admit, even these things have no valid reason to be here. They are here because I am here. And I have no valid reason to be here either.

On the other hand, one might say that we are Gods - we plunder and rape this planet without a second thought and when faced with the question of why we are here in the first place, we puff out our chests and declare that we are the most important of all. We do not need a reason to exist. It is not necessary for us to explain ourselves, or to contribute to the whole. This conclusion is much less traumatic than any other. I feel suddenly uplifted as I envision myself standing tall among my subjects; the animals and plants, the very ground that my feet rests upon. I can stop this frustrating search for answers and simply declare that I am because I am.

And then I feel lonely.

And then I must returm to the original question ... why do I exist? Why does anyone exist? Why....