Why Are We Here?

What is our real work?

The statue we call 'The Lady" in the garden at Evergreen, pondering why she is here. If she reads this blog she'll find out!

That old, old question, Why am I here? pops into most people’s head at least once in a lifetime.

Usually we calm the confusion this question engenders with quick responses that reflect our roles, careers and hobbies.

We say, I’m here to raise children or perform brain surgery, build roads, serve the community, or surf, paint or skydive. And then we hurriedly get on with doing these things.

But in the deepest blackness of a long night, or while experiencing a dark night of the soul, or while lying sick on the sofa, or sitting by the bedside of someone dying, this question pops up again and dances hauntingly around the room.

Ultimately there’s no escape from this question: Why am I here?

So, what’s the answer?

The American poet Wendell Berry wrote in his poem “Our Real Work”:

When we no longer know what to do,

We have come to our real work and when

We no longer know which way to go,

We have begun our real journey.

For me, these lines are comforting and encouraging. 

They mean that when I stop hiding behind certitude and step into the vulnerability of admitting that I don’t know why I’m here, that’s when I start living the answer to that question.

The reason why I’m here changes every moment because each moment presents me with something new.

If I blind myself with the idea that I’m here to raise my children, then I won’t realise the moment when they can teach me something.

If I march through life defining myself as a brain surgeon, I may not notice a stranger in need.

If I busy myself with surfing, painting or skydiving merely as a point of personal accomplishment, I may miss the subtle spiritual messages held within those activities.

Each moment is a fresh creation, emerging from all that has gone before, and if we act as if we know what the next moment will bring and use that prediction to define why we are here, one day we may be shocked out of our white bobby socks.

We don’t know why we’re here because we don’t know what the next moment will bring.

Why Are We Here?

So, after more than seven decades of living, this is my answer to the question of why I’m here.

 I am here to live this moment.

Whether we admit it or not, our life is full of a great unknowing.

And that great unknowing is not going to go away.

So, why are we here?

We're here to live one step at a time.

One glorious breath at a time.

Moment by moment.

With love, Marlane