This gets me thinking, once again, about life’s purpose. It can’t be to be remembered forever, although most of us strive for some kind of lasting fame. Maybe it is enough to be appreciated by a few people. But even that is problematic. So what’s left?
I glimpse meaning through my longing for solitude, which for me translates into a longing for God. You may have another word for the object of your longing, but whatever it is, I believe it is deeper than thought, feeling, or physicality. At rare moments when this longing is satisfied, thought, word, and deed have no meaning for me. It is then, however, I know my life has meaning.
This is my last full day in Florence. Like Koons statue I have come and now will go. I hope to return in April. Maybe there will be a different statue in the space. The view will change; so will have I. But the longing can always be satisfied.