Written for school, translated and slightly adapted for here.
Between the weather, the time at the end of a very long day, the… tremendous amount of energy coming from the other class, and also the difference in… maturity between us, I found it hard, in the context of class, to give an answer to the question of what we perceived to be “the meaning of life.” I also found some of the answers given frustrating, and the thought of engaging in dialogue with them filled me with even more despair than the weather already did — I’m sorry, but once you answer that question with “reproduction” you’ve lost me — but here’s a few words of an answer, anyway.
I do not have the bones for religion. I was born without them, I was never taught how to do it, and for that to change today would be a voluntary act of self-delusion. Religion, in my experience, has always been something intrusive, something that tries to intrude upon my life through cracks and gaps. Does that mean I never think about this stuff? Frankly, I find it hard to imagine there’s anyone who hasn’t at least rotated it in their head a little. Especially if you’re an artist, an educator, or both. But I do think a good answer has to come from inside you. Well, from inside me, in this case.
So here’s my good answer. First a motto, and then something more like a mission statement. The first is, “The river flows the way the river flows.” I say this a lot. It’s a mindset I try to keep central to my life. On a roaring river, there’s no way to paddle back. Can’t be done. No regrets. But no regrets doesn’t mean you can’t make corrections, improvements to your course, or plot one out. That can be done. And here’s your mission statement, “Enjoy yourself, have a good time. Improve yourself, be better tomorrow than you were today. Connect those two things in every way you can.”
And isn’t that enough?