Work for a living. Have children. Work for their living. So they can work for their children to live, in order for their children to, Lord willing, make a living for their children. And so it goes…
Ad naseum.
The routine perpetuated by those in the generations above mine has been left mostly unquestioned for centuries. Millions of families have raised their children to believe that their purpose is to find a spouse, procreate, and live happily as they rock in their chairs at family reunions and admire the immortality of their last name tearing through the house in the form of auspicious youth, as their own bones grow brittle and their hearts begin to fail. We are taught that marriage and children are the two most cherished, life transforming experiences in life.
So why, in light of these lessons, are marriage rates and birth rates not only falling, but also plummeting? Statistically, birth rates have been falling since 2008, and have currently reached an historical low. Marriage rates have fallen dramatically since the 70’s and are continuing to do so at a growing rate (especially in cities). Why is that?
The answer might be simple. You see, we’ve left this question untouched for centuries, the question of “why?” We have been doing just fine without it, and nobody has thought it odd to continue living in this manner.
That is, until now.
This generation has dared to address the question, “Why?” and with skeptical glares, they indignantly ask, “Why should I give my life to such a dizzying routine, which will ultimately continue regressing into an infinite loop of child-bearing and death? Shouldn’t someone break the cycle at some point and indulge in the work that has gone into this?”
And that question, coupled curiously with the dramatic rise in social media and the deliberate crippling of religious voice has left this generation in a very peculiar position. We have before us a question with no clear answer. And we are witnessing the death of purpose, identity, and value in the sea of existential silence as the only reasonable responses surface.
And, oh God, we are so desperate.
Some resort to iPhone apps in which the ultimate purpose is to pop bubbles, slash fruit, jump cute birds over hills, or line up candy figures endlessly. Others find some transcendental purpose in the workforce, as companies indicate that they are more successful in hiring when purpose is emphasized rather than dedication (as was for the generation preceding the current one). Others work for the weekend and reach the apex of their existence in the weekly high inherent to the expensive liquors, sloppy dancing, empty laughter, casual sex, and Sunday service hangovers. Yet, all of these people have something very important in common: they are trying desperately to distract themselves from the brutal reality staring them in the face, namely, that everything they do has no lasting meaning or purpose.
It’s depressing. But whatever, it’s real.
There is another category of people, however. But this group of people is quite different. They don’t try to distract themselves from meaninglessness with trite, banal rituals or mindless routine. They don’t retreat into the dark corners of their room to lose the triviality of their lives in video games or porn. Instead, they find purpose in their lives through the expression of who they are at their very core. They experience like no generation has before. Their lives are constantly new, filled with enriching people, places, and ideas, exotic foods, and cultural encounters. They become the embodiment of who they wish to be, dedicated to filling their life with travel, adventure, and stories. These people are unafraid of the question “why?” because they know why. And everyday is filled with their resounding answer to this question.
And, although these people are virtually idolized in our culture, I pity them far more than anyone else, because they, unlike the others, have addressed the question fervently, and have failed miserably to answer it to any degree of satisfaction because, at the very foundation of their purpose, lies one huge letter that keeps them from truly experiencing life, from truly becoming who they were created to be. It’s the letter “I”, and it is quite a miserable letter. The answer to the question “what do I do with my life?” is answered by the pursuit of self-betterment, the writing of one’s story. Yet, the flaw resides not in the answer, but the question. Beneath the seemingly plentiful life of adventure and travel lies an enormous, gaping hole left in their souls that, as it is filled more and more with “I”, echoes louder, crying for the eternal purpose for which they were created, the purpose of glorifying God. The right question to ask is not, “What do I do with my life?” but rather, “How am I to give this life back to God, its rightful owner?”
You see, there exists a magical place where we can pursue all of our own desires, be ourselves, be free from the judgment of others, indulge in the inclinations of our heart, and live our lives the way we want to.
It’s called hell.
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