I must ask this question out loud once every week or two (yeah; I'm sorta odd; shut up, ;-}); sometimes to probe the Universe for a response, sometimes to see what answer my hubby will come up with on that particular day, or I do. He has faith in God; I find myself wishing sometimes that I really did, but even so, I love to say prayers, especially the ones giving thanks, even though some days it's kinda hard to come up with something that fits the bill.  (grin)

  It has seemed evident that even at the Café, we are waiting for the next shoe to drop; that we are almost paralyzed, holding our collective breaths, for all the issues that are pending politically, economically, socially, and environmentally, to declare themselves.  It's tough to write and opine and offer next steps until there is resolution or declaration on some fronts. (Not to mention fighting Café spam attacks.)

I've tried to walk with some grace and deliberation through this suspended reality every day, and I know many of you have.  But I've been thinking that to a certain extent, finding and defining our purposes and beliefs is informed by that naïve question:  what is the purpose, the meaning of life?

  I ask it for different reasons on different days, and often in humor, or as an attempt at humor and/or irony when: it seems there may not be a purpose, except for the one I create; when I am bereft at imaging the future, and how little I can affect it; when I see, once again, how quickly love can turn to hate; when even two shots of vodka can't dull the pain; when I get that we can be pulled in to give love with one hand, and pushed away with the other; when I see how hard it is for most of us to trust each other, and how quick we are to anger; how separate we can keep ourselves from the rest of humanity; how I can want to love humanity, and yet some days hate humanity; when I forget that we have no real control over our lives, and yet yielding is so hard; and how the roulette wheel of tragedy and poverty and illness can clobber the most righteous of people, and even the most mediocre people who are simply doing the best that they can.  Then I wonder about that question, and even wonder if it's a question I should be asking, unless it's in jest.  I know none of you can probably really convince me, but I'd love to hear what you think.

  My hubby and I began the exercise about 4:30 again this morning; I will embarrass myself by telling you I decided, on a whim, to google the question.  For the next two or three hours, I read the philosophers, the poets, a few of the religious (but not many) who have answered the question.  I even got so absorbed that I forgot for hours to eat my toast; believe me when I tell you, that was A Big Deal.  (grin)

  I'd really love to hear your thoughts, musings, and beliefs.  And hell; nothing else is going on the boards tonight; last I checked, nine spam posts were on the Most Recommended Readers list, for crying out loud.

Believe me: it's an Open Thread; No Wrong Answers!