Purpose of Life - Struggling to Define one?

Our daughters call up while travelling to work in the morning and on their journey home. It is a daily ritual. In the morning, I always ask, “Child, how is the day coming up?” In the evening, I ask, “How was the day?” Between the two questions and their answers, we quickly cover the essentials. My wife gets longer talk time with the girls. At times they call at the same time. Then, my wife and I either switch phones or use the conference facility. Technology has made staying connected easy. We catch up on each other’s day through our daily calls. Sometimes, the discussion can turn serious.

“Dad, is it because I was raised as an Army child or the nomadic imprint in my DNA, I feel restless staying in one place for long. I yearn to move places?” That kickstarted the day.

“Child, maybe both,” I replied. “Deep within us, there must be remnant imprints of early mankind’s nomadic DNA. Although Homo Sapiens emerged 300,000 years ago as nomads in Africa it has been just about 10,000 years since we gave up nomadism and opted for the sedentary way of life. I believe wheat and rice enslaved and tethered us to the fertile plains near the Great Rivers.” 

I gave her time to soak in what I was saying. I also wanted to collect and organise my thoughts. I was sure she had more questions lined up.

“I believe, it is the compelling presence of that nomadic trait in our DNA that keeps Tourism afloat. The same trait must be triggering us to move places for better avenues. Isn’t immigration an evolved form of nomadism?” she did not answer, but I knew she was listening. “You are an army child and grew up travelling, moving, and living in many places. Nomadism cannot be dormant in your case. It is okay to feel restless.” I gave her time to absorb what I had said and continued.

“Just like imbalance spurs continuity in a chemical equation, the uncertainty and restlessness we experience spur movement, growth, and progress. Consider your restlessness as an internal trigger. Keep adding knowledge, skill sets and competencies to expand the horizon that envelops you.” 

The silence at the other end now was louder than the sound of the autorickshaw she was travelling in and even the blaring horns of the vehicle passing by.  I knew something else was brewing. 

“Dad, what is the purpose of our lives? I just cannot figure out mine,” she said. “What was yours?” she asked. 

I laughed aloud and said, “Terrible ways genes get passed on.” I knew I could not laugh her question away. My mind was fast at work. I had to come up with an answer. Even as children they asked many questions, even uncomfortable ones. I took pains to answer them. There were times when I sat with them and went through the encyclopaedia. My own life held the answer to her latest question.

I had grappled with the same question at various stages in my life. Each time I had come up with different answers. As a youngster who was, not doing very well at school, I wanted to be an achiever someday. Achievers had good jobs, were financially independent, owned cars and were respected. I secured a good job early in life but the euphoria vanished soon. Circumstances can be compelling if not overwhelming. I had willingly shouldered a lot of responsibilities. Ironically, my life’s sole purpose was to fulfil those first and thereafter live a carefree life and die with a song on my lips. Driven by the desire to be relevant I made a decision that landed me in serious trouble. In the gravest situation, I found myself disowned. When I rescued myself and found the will to live on, I changed course, married a lovely girl and promptly forgot about the purpose of life.

A medical emergency forced me to see life differently. As a young husband and father of two girls, I wrote down ten things to do before I die.  Most of them were to ensure a safe future for my wife and children. Over the next few years, I achieved nine out of those ten. I gave up on the tenth one. As time flew, I crossed fifty and rose in the hierarchy to become a one-star general. I wanted to leave behind “footprints on the sands of time” and worked hard towards it. I was officially chosen as the mentor for the department and I was convinced I had a strong trail of footprints behind me. People called up to know my views on professional matters when I was in service. Many called seeking my intervention in their private matters and I could help. It continued for a while even after I retired. Soon, the numbers fell and then stopped altogether. Some good-hearted folks still call up on my birthday or anniversary. The footprints I thought I had left had been washed away. I do not grudge contemporary footprints over mine, for that should be the norm. With plenty of time to stare at my empty nest, one day I sat down to restate my life’s purpose. Past 65, what should be the purpose of my life?

An honest evaluation of the situation revealed that my wife could, live well without me, once she gets the hang of the mundane things I now claim I do. My children, well placed, need neither my advice nor support. I found myself saddled with a sense of purposelessness. It dawned on me that all through my life, I had only been setting goals, and proudly calling the long-term ones, my life’s purpose. They helped me chart a course moored to the value systems I had internalised. It also ensured I retracted when I strayed. Yet they were merely the desired destinations in time. They also gave my existence a sense of exclusivity. It mattered only to me. No one else saw and felt the halo around me. It took me 65 years to realise that, shorn of that self-ordained exclusivity, life’s purpose had no meaning. 

Has anyone ever heard of the mighty lion setting goals, or living to fulfill his life’s purpose? Has anyone ever heard the Redwood tree (Sequoia sempervirens) or the Douglas Fir (Pseudotsuga menziesii) broadcasting, from the skies above, how much of their life’s purpose has been achieved? Imagine, left alone both the species easily live very long. There are known cases where some redwood trees reached the age of 2000 and some Douglas Firs lived more than 1000 years! 

We are just one of the billions of species on the earth. We have self-assigned a special place amongst other inhabitants and think we are at the top of the food chain. While that notion may provide a sense of superiority, we are hopelessly dependent on all the other species for survival. Pitted one-on-one against other species, we are utterly defenceless and fare badly in survival capabilities. Yes, our ability to fantasise, imagine, record them, and pursue our dreams to fulfilment sets us apart. Setting goals does help but evaluating one’s life on the number of goals achieved may turn detrimental to happiness. Focussed on destinations and committed to quantifying life’s journey we deprive ourselves of the beauty of the journey called life. We must set goals to pursue but not at the cost of living happily. 

Knowing that time is not on my side anymore, and with no pressure to prove anything to anyone including me, I try to make every moment full and happy. I have learned to be patient, and forgiving. Call it age-gifted wisdom, now I let things be and have trained myself to draw positives even from toxic people and situations. I have lived the last seven years without any purpose in life. Yet, I authored two books, wrote for newspapers, published many articles, trained corporate executives, spoke at events, and even became a director in a technology start-up. I love travelling. I deploy my savings and earnings to enjoy life. I stretch every minute and every penny to soak in the maximum. If I had to pen down my life's achievements, I could do it in one sentence. "My wife and I brought into this world, two children whom we groomed to be independent, capable, compassionate  and contributing members of the society." Everything else was incidental. I summed up my 65 years to her. 

“Dad, does that mean doing good, bad, and evil make no difference in life? If short-term gains define our happiness, what incentivises being good to others? Are we not back to the ways of the jungle?  What is life without a purpose?” 

She had been listening to every word I spoke. I wanted to ask her if something was wrong, but I desisted. She demanded an answer, and I had to give it, to the best of my abilities and without counterquestions.

“Child, we are getting mixed up between the means and the end. Imagine eating from a dirty plate with dirty hands when we have the option of eating with clean hands and from a clean plate. The choice rests with us.” 

We live with the mistaken notion that having travelled far from the jungle, we have become civilised. Animals kill for the right to eat and mate and nothing more than that. The hierarchy within a pride or herd revolves around these two elements. Animals also kill to foreclose competition. Humans kill for different reasons and with far-reaching consequences. Most pogroms across the globe started as someone’s life’s purpose. The ‘by any means’ school of thought justifies means with the ends. I hold a different belief system. My happiness and growth have not been at the cost of someone else’s right to life or opportunity. I feel I am more content than many of my competitors.

Success and failures are part of life. Whatever we may accumulate or achieve accompanies us for a short time. The euphoria of success wears out very fast. Even our name and fame do not last long. In the long run, we all are dead and forgotten for sure. Public memory is infamously short and easily manipulated. When regimes change, history gets rewritten, heroes are branded villains and villains get glorified as heroes. Nothing is static. Absolutely nothing should be taken for granted. We must be led by our moral compass and how that compass adapts to our immediate surroundings is a choice we must make. Happiness is something we must find within us. We do it by the choices we make and choices differentiate people. 

“Something to ponder over,” she said.

“Yes; something for all of us to ponder over,” I replied.