I saw my psychiatrist, or at least the one Dr. O, my Parkinson Doctor, referred me to. This was my second visit to see her. We quickly agreed that I did not have depression, in the sense that I do not need any medication for depression at this time. Our conversation continued and we found ourselves discussing my belief that we will never know the meaning of life, or why are we here, and there may be no reason at all. Her belief is similar, the difference between us is she believes that even if we will never know the meaning of life, there IS a meaning, or purpose, for life. She has faith that their MUST be a reason why we are here. I, on the other hand, do not believe that there MUST be a reason for our existence. We both agree that the belief that there is “no purpose for life” is a belief which is problematic for any thinking lifeforms that may arise. From this belief flows all sorts of philosophical difficulties bearing on the right of other beings to exist. Our conversation ended with agreement we were not going to resolve he issue any time soon.
In the car on our way home, my son’s lady friend and I picked up the thread of the conversation I had just concluded in the doctor’s office. We engaged in a spirited conversation on the subject of the existence of a reason for life. The subject under discussion morphed into one in which I attempted to explain how the solar system came into being. Before I could get to the punch line, we were turning into the driveway. End of discussion. Wonder of wonders, I did not have a headache. Maybe next time.