Breath is life

As existence precedes essence, life precedes meaning. Life, raw and untamed, takes precedence over any constructed purpose, over any notion of an ultimate meaning that neither exists nor can exist. Life, primary and intrinsic, while meanings and purposes are but shadows cast by human consciousness, fragile constructs. When we subordinate life to some imagined ultimate meaning, it becomes a tool, a servant to that which we have made up. Suffering, especially the innocent suffering of children, is said to serve this ultimate goal. But no—suffering has no goal, no purpose. The universe moves on, indifferent to our pain. Suffering asks questions, deeper questions, pushing us to value life above the search for answers. It is a catalyst, not a step. To seek a meaning "of" suffering is a futile act, an echo of our futile search for the meaning of life itself. We craft meanings "in" our suffering, perhaps to soothe ourselves, to make sense of what shakes us, but in doing so, we place life first, where it belongs. The Buddha spoke of suffering first, offering a view not of salvation, but of skillful living in a world of impermanence. Life is fragile, inconstant, always changing—this is not a flaw, but the very fabric of existence. In our struggle to bear this truth, we reach for something greater, something beyond. We create gods, higher purposes, but these are no more than hypotheses. None can be proven, none can truly protect us from the reality that all life perishes. And so, I choose not to demand faith. I accept the perishability of life—aging, illness, death. These are not barriers, but the ground beneath our feet. Faced with this truth, we have three choices: to ignore it and invent comforts, to sink into nihilism where nothing matters, or to stay, right here, within the boundaries of life itself.