I'm a big fan of country songwriter Tom T. Hall, especially his song called Life Don't Have To Mean Nothing At All.  Somehow that particular song slipped by me, and I didn't notice it until I bought a Joe Nichols record a few years back and discovered it.  Maybe a lot of other people missed it too because I can't remember it getting a lot of notice.  Then again, I don't listen to radio much and don't know what's hot and what's not.  Still, I love the message in the song.

Most  people believe their lives have meaning, one way or another.  Some folks think life's just mostly drudgery and shitty business, but that's the way it's supposed to be.  Life's a bitch and then you die - you know the old saying.  But they still think it means something, and I'm with Tom's song when it comes to that.  If folks would quit trying to find some meaning to life and just get on with living it, they'd be a lot better off.  In one line in the song, Tom suggests we be good to our fathers and mothers . . . and we might even consider being good to one another.  I like that.

Like most other people, though, I still think my life should have purpose.  I don't think it's predestined, but I think some purpose can come of life.  I'm not a religious person, so I don't believe that God has created a place in this world for me, that he has plans for me, and that my purpose is to discover that plan.  Instead, I've always believed more in the chaos theory, that the universe is mostly chance and change.  The best I can do with a situation like that is create purpose by planning, by trying to predict what will happen and what I should do about it.  God may not have given me specific purpose, but he did give me a good mind to explore and discover with . . . and he set me loose in this wonderful environment of chance and change free to choose from a multitude of paths available to me.

Life would indeed be simple if it were like Robert Frost's concept of two roads converging.  And yes, taking the seemingly more difficult road sometimes turns out to be what gives purpose to our lives.  But I'm starting to believe that I've been wrong about the multitude of paths concept, that life may just be one road.  It's not a matter of chosing roads; it's a matter of learning the road you're on.  I've found that in my life, much of it has been spent not just trying to find my way, but in retracing my steps in search of what I lost along the way.  Sometimes, a new road is nothing more than the same old road in reverse, going the other way.  Backward isn't always the wrong way, not if you've been on a road with a dangerous destination.

Maybe we're all a little unsure of whether or not we're headed the right way, but there's some comfort in knowing there's lots of road behind us.  We can always go back, and I've learned that in doing so, we don't find the road the same.  It changes because we discover things we missed the first time, or the second, or however many times it takes to know the road . . . and understand it.  Where we get in trouble most often is in trying to find shortcuts, and easy road to where we want to be.  And there it is, finally, the real issue here - where you want to be is not always where you need to be.

And finally, what do we do when we end us somewhere that's not what we planned on, not what we wanted?  Maybe going back isn't an option, so then what?  Well, this is when we learn what purpose is all about, what should be done.  A well adjusted person would probably say, "Well, this sure isn't where I planned on being, but I'm here, and I need to do the best with what I've got."  And if you take stock of what you have, what you brought with you to this unwanted place in your life, you'll probably find that you've got most of what you need to make the best of it.  You might even build something desirable out of it.

These thoughts come to mind this morning because I find myself at a place not of my liking.  I didn't really plan on being here, at least not the way I got here, but I'm here now.  I'm old.  I didn't plan on being old, so I'm a stranger here, and I'm homesick for times and places that are back down the road behind me.  And I can't go back.  So what do I do now?  I can't quit the road, not just yet . . . but I'm sure not liking my new place much.  It seems like I got here all at once, didn't pay close enough attention to what was going on around me.  Damn!  It's sure creepy place.

I've figured it out, though, and I'm starting to get a little antsy.  I'm here, and I can't go back, so I'm thinking about poking around some.  Yeah, I'll explore this new place, and maybe I'll make some worthwhile discoveries.  I don't think there's a map, so I'll just make my own.  Maybe it's all still chance and change . . . but I've still got purpose.  So if I disappear for a while, don't worry.  I'm just out looking the place over.

C. Duhon, 4/11/08