The Purpose of Existence

Suddenly, I came face to face with God itself, an experience more beautiful than the human mind could fully comprehend. A sense of joy unlike any I’d known washed over me and I was instantly brought to my knees in trembling gratitude. It was glorious, awesome, and I felt perfect love for the universe and all the things within it. I wept tears of wonderment at the experience, feeling for the first time in my life complete. Fulfilled.

Here, at last, would be the answer I’d spent a lifetime searching for. The answer for which I’d spent years in monasteries, hiked to Tibet, starved in deserts on vision quests, pilgrimaged to three holy cities and attended more churches than I could count. I’d finally come to the end of my journey, and this ultimate knowledge, and the sense of purpose and contentment it would surely brings, was finally mine.

“Please,” I beseeched the deity, averting my eyes from it‘s glorious and horrifying visage, “please, I beg of you, tell me, what is this life? Why are we here? What’s the true purpose of existence?”

God looked down upon me, kindly, for a moment or two, seeming to consider my words. Finally, he put a hand upon my bowed head and bid me rise to my feet. As he answered, he smiled down at me, radiating perfect energy and warmth.

“The purpose of existence,” he answered in a voice powerful enough to shake the very heavens above us, “is to create a universe from nothingness and fill it with intelligent creatures, granted free will by your loving hand, so that they might love you in return. For me, at least. But you’re neither immortal nor omnipotent, so for you it might be something very different.”