These are just my thoughts, and hardly what passes for a anything meaningful. I don't know if it even translates when I write it down but we'll see I guess. I was one of those LDS who bought the idea that God was not just giving wisdom to a few select Semitic peoples but had truth that was in various stages of corruption that could probably be found in all religions. Even as a TBM, for example, I was interested in stories in Buddhism that I saw as paralleling similar views in the Gospels. I would sometimes sneak a story out of Zen Flesh, Zen Bones into a lesson and they seemed generally well received.
So when I ultimately began moving away from belief the Book of Mormon was historical, Joseph Smith was a prophet and all that came with it, my first attempts at finding meaning involved looking more into the places that seemed most fertile from this previous effort. But in almost every case there came a point when what seemed appealing and "real" required some metaphysical belief that was both fundamental to the system and blatantly ludicrous. Buddhism required karma and belief in reincarnation. Unitarian Universalist Christianity still required one not look too historically at the Bible. Reform Judaism was a birth rite really and one would always be an interloper into a cultural identity one didn't actually inherit. Hinduism, Shinto, etc., etc. - gods and beliefs that underlay the ideas were essential to the systems. Even stoicism requires some form of metaphysical foundation I can't buy into.
But what I did come away with was the sense that the questions, and some of the answers, transcended culture and time.
Ultimately I feel I've come to a few simple conclusions. Meaning is self-generated. And 100 years from now whatever that meaning was I found for myself will be forgotten. But I don't care because I won't be aware of that loss of meaning. It's impermanence is tied to the impermanence of my own identity. Also, life ought to be well-lived but what that means is transitory depending on circumstance and often on things out of my control. Regardless, it ought to include friends, family, and the appreciation of just how impermanent life really appears to be. Third, doing new things that challenge me is meaningful because it both makes me return to the beginner's mind, and it is stimulating to learn to do something I couldn't do before and still can't do well but want to get better at it. In some ways, I spend a lot of time now working on hobbies just to refresh myself. I find intentional routine (as opposed to the passively acquired routine of a rut) gives life a good meter for the music of the day to play out to, and oddly allows for the breaking of the routine with meaning to be all the more stimulating.
All of that creates a sort of ethical requirement, too. To have friends and family relationships that benefit all, one has to be honest and willing to help out among other things. Life will be crap often and arbitrarily. I find mediation helps to quiet the tough times and even out the peaks as well. It's important to be there for people when crap goes on for them, too. Because often no one else will. Most people's lives are too complicated to make assumptions about what got them to where they ended up, so if I can lend a hand or give something away that helps, I try to do so. I've been given a lot of crap for giving money to homeless people over the years but I can never shake the sense that had my life taken a few minor twists early on it could be me in their shoes. So, while superstitious and crazy in it's own way, I try to follow the outlines of the golden rule.
What I haven't figure out: Is there a balance between quality of life and quantity of life? Because both seem better in certain circumstances. For example, work/life balance is a imperfect thing in my life right now. I enjoy my profession so I don't ever feel like work is drudgery. But I feel neglectful or out of balance when I try to make up for when I need to really lean into work by focusing on quality time out of the office. This is where I right now am enforcing routine as much as possible because when I don't life creates it's own routine.
Second, I miss my tribe. I felt it most in the military with a particular unit. I plan on reading Sebastian Junger's book on it soon, mainly because the subject resonates with me.
https://www.amazon.com/Tribe-Homecoming ... 1455566381I have not figured out how to capture the sense of belonging like that, but I get the sense that is a very very common feeling. Anyone figures that one out, I'm all ears.
Last, I am constantly certain that life is all we get, and have yet to figure out how to quench the feeling that there is too much that I want to know about, to engage in and never will scratch the surface. This may have been part of my Mormon inheritance where part of the appeal of eternity was the promise there would always be more time, or whatever constitutes change, in the eternities.
There's certainly more, but those are the ones that quickly came to mind.
