MEANING OF LIFE? Imagine: you are simply having a celebratory cup of coffee at your favorite coffee shop, making a list of what-to-do-on-the first day of a Post-Big-Project-Era when your parked car is suddenly blasted out of the shop parking lot with alien-ray-gun precision! So you spend the next nine days sorting through it—yet keep running across that handwritten list of “what-to-do,” written minutes before the crash. It is laughable, this living evidence of the pretense of control and the metaphor of it all started to eat away at the thin pillars supporting my little House of Why?
The journey of this car replacement became a twisting path where, believe it or not, I carried this question: What is the meaning of life? Yesterday the journey circled back to that same coffeeshop where I met my friend (and Learning Dreams inventor), Jerry Stein, who happened to notice that I had, in fact, parked my “new” car in the same “dangerous” spot of the crash for the first time…Even before the coffee was finished the crash induced question, What-is-the-meaning-of-life had been tossed on the table, where I inserted my often tangled question inside every potential answer: But does it stand the Holocaust Test (How could this happen?). Jerry answered with this book: Man’s Search for Meaning, by Viktor E. Frankl. Hours later I found a stack of them at Common Books, St Paul, face out, on a philosophy table, despite its 1959 pub date.
Turning the pages of this horrific tale and the insight given to Dr. Frankl from inside a Nazi concentration camp has been like standing in a cool waterfall on a steaming day. As religions tear us apart, globally, I feel like I have found something I can understand to help me answer the essential question in the ridiculous metaphor of the Post-Crash days. Thanks, Jerry, thanks crash, and all the amazing people I have met this long week.