Life and Death

I feel flooded over with questions. Deep deep real questions tonight. What is the point? I will one day be dead. My body is on a journey toward eventual death. I am nearly 30 years old. My life is 1/3 over. Or maybe 1/2 over. Or God only knows, maybe 98% over. I don't want to die when there is so much I want to answer for myself. I glanced, amidst these swirling questions, to a painting given to me by a friend who loves me. She has touched my life. The fact that I have that painting means there is something I'm doing right. More importantly it settles me into joy. It is an honor, a privilege, to travel this journey from nothing to nothing with other people. And we are made to feel love. Love is god is what unites us with each other. There is no purpose. We are given gifts. I am given joy and love and companionship and friendship. It is a paradox to pursue anything on this earth. When the things I carry with me are not what I did, but who I love. The people, the moments, are more important than the plays or the product. I often point to the time before I went on stage during a Christmas show my friends and I summoned from our spirits. As the moment I loved the most in life so far. Why? The people, together, telling a story, living, creating. It was perfect.  nd so, it is the people who have blessed my life that make my life feel deeply worth living. The argument could be made that eventually they will be gone and so it is for me to find that same joy within. Or at least without them. Yoga and meditation seem only a foundation. A base to prepare