The Purpose of Life?

Why does the thought of standing in a structure or a place decades, hundreds or thousands of years old give me goose-bumps? The thought that 400-years ago, there was another person standing in the same spot, inhabiting the space that I now occupy, sometimes does my head in ... humans do time-travel, just not in the traditional sense.

Did that person imagine what the future would be like? Or was he consumed by just the thought of surviving another day? Did people in the 1800s ever envision the advances in technology that we now take for granted? How would they fit into this world? How would we fit into theirs?

I've been thinking about that for a little while. History. How people of the past leave a mark, where ever you go, they are there. At work, in the cities you live in, the parks you walk through. Not as ghosts but, for the lack of a better word, an imprint. We don't necessarily see it just as we don't see the ancient leaves and animals in our petrol-based products. But they are there.

I guess I'm simply reflecting on what kind of imprint I'd leave? Will we all, someday, become the unseen bones and flesh in some future product? How will we be remembered? Who will be remembering us?

In school, we learned about Thomas Edison, Galileo, Copernicus, Aristotle. Who from this past century would the future learn about?

Then there is the imprint we leave on others during our lifetime. Perhaps that's why people commit themselves to each other. As a way of saying, your life matters and I will bear witness and be a part of it. It's not just in the context of husband and wife .. people can commit to one another as friends, as sisters, as daughters and as colleagues. Hmm, not sure about the colleague part but I personally commit myself one hundred percent to my work place and it's people. Maybe the lack of other social structures is why I am that way.

What is the purpose of life? This question I've grappled with since 15 still confounds me whenever I think of it. The question comes up in those quiet moments, when it's just me and my thoughts, no distractions like the tv or thoughts of work or what to eat for dinner. Just you and that question that hovers in the background, waiting for the perfect time to strike. No warning. Sometimes catching you at vulnerable moments. I did not know this was an 'existential' thing until much, much later. It was just a thought, what is the purpose of life? What is the point of our existence? What is the point of my existence?

Sometimes, it feels like the answer is at the edge of my mind. Too far away to see clearly, to articulate. Other times all I see is a big nothing. Empty. Blank. Very, very frustrating. Is this why some people do drugs? I've read comments from drug-user who say certain drugs, such as the hypnotic kind, can 'open' your mind and the universe suddenly make sense. But it seems to be a fleeting sensation that needs to be recreated again and again. And why don't they go on to write books detailing their new-found understanding of the world and of humanity? I think I'd  like to figure out the answer without the assistance of external mind-altering chemicals thankyouverymuch.

Rambling. That's what I'm doing. And in this rare moment of insightfulness (is that a word? whatev.) I know exactly why I'm rambling. No edge of the mind business here - I don't want to wash the dishes. Bet four hundred years ago, some girl was thinking the exact same thing.