Life is a crazy occurrence. Reality is unnatural, but we as humans (limited beings) have made it out to be natural, normal, monotonous...
Let's think this through.
People - our feet are bound to a water-filled, land-covered orb suspended in space. There are billions of orbs like ours floating around us, but we inhabit this one. No one is one hundred percent certain as to why we're here, experiencing all these moments of pain and joy, connecting to fellow wayfarer's around us. We can claim ideas and explanations and faiths in an attempt to process why we exist here, in this place, in this time, but I am convinced that nothing is certain. Maybe certainty is overrated. Maybe to be uncertain is to be in the minority - to be in love with life regardless of explanation. How the moments fit together, what they mean, and the excitement of not yet knowing the moments that will come - uncertainty is beautiful.
What I am convinced of is that there is some force greater, beyond our comprehension, that explains the reasoning behind our seemingly irrational existence. We have to trust that force in an attempt to remain sane. If we had no purpose or reason for living, then how could we trek on? We're all trusting something - that something that keeps us alive and feeling worthy of breath. It's keeping us passionate about moving forward, it's our explanation, our flame of existence.
As if contemplating why we're here isn't bewildering enough, there's this all-embracing theory that has been long claimed to explain it all -
In each religion, spirituality, in each heart and mind, there is this strong universal concept that connects us to people and activities and life in a way that we are unable to fully describe. How interesting that the closest way I can explain my existence on this earth is by a concept of feeling that's nearly unexplainable.
Feelings of love trounce me. Talk of love overwhelms me. Attempting to rationalize why I'm madly in love with my passions burdens me. I don't want to explain it - I can't explain it. I have no answer for it. But I can feel it.
How something can be equally simple and complex at the same moment, as it is with love, strikes me as indescribable. And for some odd reason I am comforted by explaining my existence with an unexplainable concept. This reassures me that the pressure is not on me, a single, minuscule human being, to create a purpose for myself. The purpose already lives inside of me, it flows from me naturally. The purpose is love - a force beyond it all.
Life, the process of existing, is a crazy occurence.
I have found it to in no way be natural, normal, or monotonous.