Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Toys in the attic and the meaning of life

First a story....
I grew up in a pretty typical american setting... suburbs, nice home, local school, christmas mornings, etc. My bedroom had two doors. One door was to the rest of the house and the other door lead up to the attic. Bit of a quirky thing.

Every year, during the holiday season, my parents would make trips up to the attic carrying our christmas presents. They would place them in a pile on the attic floor, cover them with a blanket and lock the attic door behind as they left.

Every year I would sneak up the attic stairs and peek through the keyhole trying to get a glimpse of  the presents. True story. All I ever saw was a blanket draped over things.

So now it's many years later. I am a full grown adult and I am peeking through a keyhole, trying to get a glimpse at something. Still no luck.

Second an insight..... maybe/maybe not

My parents in their wisdom and their love kept the gifts away from me. This is because they knew it was best. My joy would be good if I waited until I crossed that threshold of night into Christmas morning.

So the easy inference here is: Is it the same for the meaning of life?  Will I cross a threshold into revelations and joy?


Jan said...

They were there under that blanket - specially and lovingly chosen for you! I think that's a good way to look at life. I've been searching for the Meaning of Life since I first heard Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy many many years ago. I just published an ebook giving my take on it. Life: A Player's Guide by Jan Stone on Kindle in case you're interested.

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