WebMDave

I s everyone living a superfluous life?  This planet is crawling with billions of us — stressfully going to work, devotedly posting trite photos online, and angrily arguing about the policies and behaviors of self-serving elected officials. On the surface, human behavior can seem very industrious and meaningful. Upon closer examination, however, it bears a striking similarity to scurrying rats.    Most people try to present the impression of being happy and fulfilled. Or at least occupied. Some "find themselves" through religion, by raising a family, or in making sourdough starters; others volunteer for veterans' causes, rescue animals, or collect vintage watches. Some go to therapy, some journal, some hike — these are all excellent distractions from the universal truth that, cosmically speaking, life is entirely pointless. We are mortal. Time is gradually erasing the memory of everything and everyone we see or hear.  Yesterday, I attended a Veterans' Day luncheon...

I am a retired senior citizen. With fewer distractions and obligations, the quiet has grown louder — and with it, a deep, gnawing question:  Does anything really matter? The answer I keep arriving at, disturbingly but persistently, is: No. Not really. Not in the long run. Empires rise and fall. The sun will burn out. Everything I have ever done, thought, or loved will be forgotten. Even the Earth itself will one day cease to exist. What’s the point of trying to live “well” when I’m a temporary blip, a speck of dust floating in a cosmic shrug? That’s where I am. This, I suppose, is what some would call an existential crisis . It feels more like existential clarity—and it’s unsettling. But I’ve been walking the Stoic path for a while now. I'm a Prokopton — a student of Stoicism, someone hopefully progressing toward wisdom, even if imperfectly. The Stoics never promised comfort. They promised coherence. A way to live honestly in a world that doesn’t owe us meaning or anyt...