Life...

For more than one and a half decade of my life, I have spun my mind around like a top over issues to do with life. When I was a kid, I would always be either thinking of how to become a better person in both ethical and practicl sense, or what to do in the future. By ethical, I mean how to improve character and morals. By "practical", I mean how to better adapt to the world around the self. At an early age, I had already believed that one needs to be flexible in order to adapt to one's surroundings. For one to be flexible, one needs to have knowledge. I believed that to have knowledge, one needs to have good memory to store the facts and then be able to manipulate them around. One needed to combine ethical values with that as well so that you can learn better, I thought.

Flexibility meant a lot for me. That included physical flexibility which included not only having the ability to do splits but even more, to have stamina and endurance. Big huge muscles don't mean much because they would only slow you down; you need to have speed. But stamina and endurance will ensure that you last. I sound like I'm talking about martial arts. Maybe I am. Actually I'm not sure if I held these opinions before I got interested in the martial arts, or I liked martial arts first, or they just kind of coincided for me. But I believed that one should have these traits to do well in life whether you actually train in physical combat. I still do believe in all this even now (although I have of course expanded the view). The other kind of flexibility of course has to do with having a broad base of knowledge so that "you know a little bit of everything" and can therefore adapt easier. It can at least be easier for you do things you've never or you very seldom do.

In thinking about what I want to do in the future, I had thought about being a cop, a member of some special military force team, or a doctor. I liked action and I wanted to help people and save lives at the same time. Maybe it was because I had a genuine willingness to help those in need. Or maybe it was because of wanting to satisfy my ego by thinking I would be viewed as a "hero". Or it could be both. I was pretty foolish and immature to think like this at such early age. I should be growing up like the other kids my age having fun and not stressing my mind out unnecessarily. But instead, I think too much. And it all turned out to be nothing really. It's just that if it hasn't substantiate then I would think about it some more just to satisfy something inside me. Maybe just to make myself believe that it has already happen the way I thought it up and then I would enjoy the intended resulting benefits. What a waste of time it has been. I could have been using my energy for other more practical purposes rather than daydreaming about things that I was not even close to being ready for. I just dreamed about those things; I didn't really think about what I need to do to achieve those goals because I never truly made them as goals in the first place.

I was given a set of "Childcraft" books published by World Book. I also had the encyclopedia set and dictionary set. The childcraft was suppose to increase my basic knowledge of things and stimulate my mind to explore deeper and have a more inquiring mind. But instead it stimulated my wasteful daydreaming. I would often dream about travelling all over the place and seeing many things and doing many if not all the things mentioned in the books. Basically what I was doing was trying to make up some positive ending instead of considering about how to, in reality, focus and work towards that ending (which of course is a lot harder to do -- easier said than done, right?).

All these things probably overall did more bad than good. For one thing, I would have realized those things later on in life anyway and they won't really apply to me at such an early age unless I knew how to handle them and use them properly. But I didn't know how to use those ideas I had generated to achieve some end. I didn't even think about doing that or at least didn't apply them to something that was currently going on in my life at the time. If I wasn't thinking of things the way I did I would more than likely have been better off in all aspects of my life.

In high school, the daydreams continued and included girls and having a "nice job" and a comfortable life. But all along since I was a kid, something had been haunting me. That something was the idea of death. Usually about once or twice a year or almost every year, I would get sudden almost violent fits where I totally get scared and be freaking out like a possessed person. This continued right into at least my early twenties.

Further, when I was away for university and I was challenged by my evangelical landlady and others on Catholicism, I got quite immersed into the religion-related topics, sometimes even more than the school subjects. I confess I don't truly know what it was that was driving me to take such actions. Did I have a genuine interest in the truth? Or was I just interested in finding things to defend my existing religion? Or both; in other words was there something about myself being a believer in a religion that was so great so tremendous that a change from one religion to another would have too much for me to handle? What was it that was scaring me? I mean, it's not like I'm going to go to hell whether I was Protestant or Catholic.

In the past, I have heard of people talking about the purpose of life. I never really thought about it much because I assumed I already knew. Life is just going to school, get a job, and earn some money, I thought. As my university life was coming to an end, I found myself faced with this problem. My mind was racing around to think what I would do with my life. I wasn't quite happy with my job and I didn't graduate with the most useful baccalaureate in the world. And yet I wanted to do something that was truly meaningful. And that would mean doing something that would carry good meaning all my life through. Good not only for me but others as well. And yet I couldn't really find anything. Sure I could take theology, but then what would I do - teach? Becoming a priest? Be a missionary? I don't know if I wanted to be either of them my whole life unless I know for sure God wanted me to. But then I couldn't decide on that either.

It seems kind of strange that a religious person could still be struggling with such basic questions as the purpose of life. But I had problems. There seemed to be pressure from both the family and society's sides for me to get a well-paid job and start saving up for the future etcetera etcetera. There should not have to be such problems. The questions of what sort of career to go into must still be answered, but I didn't see the purpose. What was the point? I'm struggling to get a good job and earn some bucks, but for what?

I grew quite frustrated about this. I didn't know what to do. I was very uncertain of the future. I knew I had to do something solid real soon because I'm using someone else's resources as well as wasting my own precious time. Earlier my dad had told me that I was taking things for granted because I was spending my energy and time on things that are useless and won't "get me a job". Many people had been through hardships in the past and are thus working hard now in the hope of reducing these hardships in the future through getting jobs that are both secure and well-paid. That threw a bucket of cold water over me and woke me up. My dad was right; I was taking things for granted and using my resources inappropriately and inefficiently. I was spoiled and was not appreciating things properly.

One day I realized that all the pondering about both life and death was because deep down inside I didn't want to live in this world in the first place. Why was I born? Why did God have to create me? I didn't want to be born; I never asked for it. But since I found myself thrown into the wide open with nothing solid for me to grab onto and it was against my will as well, I had to struggle to make the best of it. Yet I didn't see the point of doing it at all. I would die anyways, we all will one day. So why take up so much effort to work for a better job and earn more money and have a "relaxing and comfortable life"? The wealth isn't going to last forever and the knowledge is probably useless in heaven as well, so what was the point of all this, I kept thinking.

In the past, I had thought about running away. But then what? When I get found, I'll be yelled at for hours. And besides, tomorrow I have school and I wanted to see so-and-so. Or next week I have a dinner to go to with my cousins and I didn't want to miss out on it. So that was out. Suicide was out as well because the world does have a lot of beautiful places and I wanted to have a chance to check out them.

But a religious faith would probably be eternal because we're talking about stuff that perminently pertains to the soul. And your soul is that part of you that will always last. Religion can decide what your afterlife will be. Maybe that's why I was so anxious about believing in the right religion. Or maybe finding myself to have believed in the wrong religion after all would be too much for me to handle since it wasn't my choice to being created and born into this world and having to deal with religion and other things in life. I could have just never existed and never have to worry about anything.

But God had mercy. One night (on Sunday, Dec 12th, 1999, I think) when I decided to get off a bus stop near Georgia and Boundary (Bby) and take a stroll around the 3700th block of Venables and up Boundary to Hastings before catching another bus home, it finally clicked in. In the past I have been told many times before that there are so many people out there that don't have enough of the basic necessities of life that we Westernized people take so much for granted. So many people don't have enough food or water or clothes. Any food they have lacks much essential nutrition and any water they have is filthy compared to our purified water. The air that these people breathe is polluted while the water they clean themselves and their clothes in are dirty. Even though I could say all these things easily because I've heard of them and seen them in the media so much, the true meaning never really clicked in.

But I finally realized that these people probably feel more sorry about life than I do. Many of the children born in Africa are born with either or both physical or mental disability. Those who have the ability to perceive and interpret the environment around them, especially those who have had a taste of "first world" culture, would probably feel so much pain and grief that I could not even begin to imagine. They would be the ones to say to themselves, "What's the point of living? It wasn't my idea; I never asked to be born into this world." They would be the ones to be beating their chests, not me. And yet here I am fussing over something that I should really be thankful for. God created me out of love. He wanted to create someone with whom He could share His Love. Since I have so much more resources and I am both physically and mentally able to do more than the needy, I should invest the excess in helping them.

The poor people, by the way, should not be underestimated. They have surprisingly a lot of faith and hope inside them. These traits are extremely valuable. Maybe because the hardships of their environment caused them to be like that. I have lots to learn.

Anyway, that is therefore what life is truly all about. To realize that God gave you every single one of your abilities and resources. Where you have more than others, you are to share what you have with others through various means. Through anything that reflects the Love of God. When you do things to reflect the Love of God, you are in effect saying "Thanks" to God for everything. Whatever the career path happens to be is not as important as whether you are ultimately doing things for the good of others and not out of self-centered motives.

And so having this figured out, I know longer have to be so concerned about the purpose of life and struggling to find something that is truly meaningful for life because basically anything that is not against Christian moral can be meaningful. Also, to live a life is to look reality straight in the eyes and do something about it.