Why live?

Why do we live? For adults, this question seems naive. Indeed, teenagers are more likely to ask them. They have a heightened sense of death, which gives rise to a sense of the meaninglessness of existence. It cannot be said that then it completely leaves the person and he lives only with specific worries and problems, and eternal questions fade into the background. No, even if not in the form of an eternal question, but this thought is not so rare for any of us.

Here I am fussing, the man thinks, I make money, I climb the career ladder, they respect me, there are some achievements, I helped someone, I loved someone, but now I see: everything passes, and love passes, money disappears like dust , children rarely go to a rebuilt dacha (they have their own companies and affairs), the circle of friends is thinning, the wife has become irritable, merits will sooner or later be forgotten … Then why was all this? So many efforts and hopes, so many seductions and sorrows. Why, when only death lies ahead?

In truth, no one has an answer to this childish question (and all philosophical questions are childish). In a religious person, it is solved naturally, because he believes that he will live after death, moreover, in accordance with his earthly way of life. But there are few true believers. For the majority, the resurrection of Christ is only a metaphor, beautiful and meaningful, but by no means a reality. And then it’s impossible to believe in an afterlife seriously.

Bright minds answer this question, but these answers are either vague or disappointing. I remember a letter from Makarenko to a teenager who, on the verge of hysteria, asked him: what is the meaning of life? Anton Semenovich, with a frankness rare for a Soviet teacher, answered that the question of meaning lies exclusively in the field of biology, and it does not exist in human life. Goethe answered the same question that the meaning of life is in life itself. Perfectly! The genius is apparently right, but still how to apply this to one’s own being? Leo Tolstoy asked this question until old age, suffered terribly (all answers were intermediate) and could not calm down.

It is impossible to answer this question, but you can get out of the field of its oppressive attraction. Often this is possible for ordinary and, as they say, simple people. Not because this topic is too much for their intellect (as I have already said, it is beyond the power of any intellect). But they know how to love business (the most common), know how to love children, and then grandchildren to self-forgetfulness, dissolve in their joys, troubles and illnesses, love for a life partner does not fade over the years, but turns into a feeling of successfully happened and dear relationship.

They meet the death of a loved one with open crying, and tears, oddly enough, wash away grief faster than longing driven inside. Such a person perceives each new day as a gift and loves sticky notes before he has time to think about the meaning. What can I say, do lovers care about the meaning of life?

It turns out that love, if a person is overwhelmed with it, displaces this painful and insoluble question, there simply is no room for it. We can say — not love, but interest, but passionate interest, absorbing entirely. It is impossible to say that this solves the problem. But I didn’t say that. However, it is possible to remember such an unquestioning state as correct. And with the next influx of depression, try to return to it.

It’s difficult. Because in life losses, quarrels, illnesses are inevitable. We are not always excited and loving. It is impossible to artificially return them. But in life there is always something worth loving. I don’t know if it can be learned. Perhaps the love of life, a sense of harmony is a special gift that is not given to everyone. But at least you need to know what’s going on. Sometimes this feeling is similar to a religious revelation, although not necessarily directly related to religion.

I will cite an episode from the life of the remarkable artist Anatoly Zaslavsky, which struck me. He was an art student. I read a lot, in particular, Leo Tolstoy and also suffered from the question of the meaning of life. Life was not very fun, his friend had just been deprived of his student card, he had to go to the army, and there he, unable to stay on the crossbar for more than a few seconds, would die. And then suddenly … I give an oral story:

“Suddenly, this looks like mystical deeds, but nevertheless it is so … If it weren’t for Yashka, I would have thought it was a hallucination. Because all of a sudden it all became clear. … Here were all sorts of dirty rags from our students. Well, everything was lying around, everything was sloppy, and everything was not necessarily and not excellent. But everything was suddenly illuminated by some kind of internal … not even by physical light, but by meaning was highlighted. In general, it became incredibly beautiful, it became so good. It just became clear to me.

The main thing is that I have had such explosions of pleasure before, but they were exalted. And it was completely different, such a calm acceptance. I suddenly realized that everything that lies like this, it lies perfectly in its place, that nothing needs to be moved, that the world is covered with absolute harmony, absolute freedom and harmony, nothing can be changed, because everything is perfect. … And even then I realized that if this feeling passes, then I will remember that it was true, that the world is really absolutely proportionate, harmonious and infinitely glowing with its own composition.