Watched two buddhist monks in full traditional garb lightly tread ground as they walked to the back of a multicolored Thai Food Cart in South Austin with their friend, the spitfire owner, a small but tough (and funny as hell) older lady of Thai descent - all smiling. It reminded me to reopen some buddhist literature and philosophy of younger days. Albert Camus, thoughts on
absurdism, and my recent rereading of
The Stranger linger in my head as well. Readings and thoughts and ration that have long been familiar to me, available to me, read and reread, and yet seem newly found once again.
As to the inherent meaning of life that humanity is endlessly in longing for (you know, the one that doesn't exist yet has spawned infinite philosophical theory, formal organization and alignment, academia and absolutism of all sorts, religions, more religions, etc.)
The whole point, the purpose itself, is to escape pain (inherent in humanity and life) and to find Happiness - this IS the meaning in itself (or at least the only one feasibly available to human capacity) - the discovery OF meaning for oneself. That's it. It is most definitely a subjective experience that must be had as such, but oddly there is a communal consistency throughout humankind and history OF that experience.
Hmmm? It seems so simple.
How do i keep forgetting? Not simple.
