Life is Art

And art is self expression.
Thus, life is self expression.
Science is man’s attempt to explain this art. It’s like trying to use paint by numbers to show someone how you feel. It makes no sense.
Even on the most depressing of days, you make real decisions that determine things about your future. So next time you feel stuck in an infinite loop remember that your life is art.
In my years of self experimentation, I started to develop methodical systems for just about everything that I truly cared about. I hyper-analyzed every facet of life that I could think of and control. So that in almost every situation, I had a pre-planned way to stand, how to sit, what to say. I had decided that these were the right ways of doing things. And I must do them the right ways.
The problem was that this did not take into account what was on my mind or how I felt. I simply made moral decisions out of decisions that had zero moral value. I had turned what I should do, to what I must do.
So of course I got depressed. I had turned myself into a robot. By the grace of God, I’ve learned that only free creatures can love. What I had done was create probably one of the most sophisticated loops ever, and lost free will.
So in becoming human again, I can acknowledge choices. And to acknowledge choices is to acknowledge freedom. And with that freedom I can choose a certain path. And I can express myself again. Life is art again. I can love again.

I die therefore I live

The fear that has completely disabled me over the past couple weeks is not of death, but of dying. Getting a terminal diagnosis from a doctor, and sitting on a hospital bed and feeling sorry for myself for the rest of my life.
But wait, we are all terminal. We are all born with an expiration date.
So any doctor would only confirm what I already knew about myself: that I am dying. So is he. 
The best and most powerful realization of this is that my uncertainty is still in tact. Just because I may have a terminal illness, doesn’t mean that is going to be what kills me. Someone could murder me on my deathbed, or infinite other possible deaths. So I am still just as uncertain about my death as I was before. 

I’ve been sitting on this thought for several weeks now. And tonight it hit me: 
Life does not mean death. Death is just a part of life. But death means life. To not be is to say that I once was.
‘I think therefore I am.’ I die therefore I live. 
If you never slept, would you know what consciousness was? Sleep is how we know we are awake. Death is how we know we lived. 

The Purpose of Life

Is to figure out the purpose of life.

How do we do that? We learn to discern right from wrong, establish our truths. Form our beliefs. Write logic based on those beliefs. Develop behaviors based on that logic. Then we compare them with other people’s.

If your truth is different from my truth, how is it different? If I discern that one of your truths is more plausible than one of my truths, I believe you. I inherit your truth. I then form new beliefs based on your truths, write new logic, and develop new behaviors.

Continue this process until you feel like you have something to share. Share that something while continuing to refine your truths, explore new ideas, and write better logic.