Loving Heartstrings: The Search for Meaning is a Quest for Love

Over the holidays, I have been mildly entertained by people discussing what are the best bang-for-your-buck opportunities for consumption… — this or that party, celebration, offer, whatever. I do not claim to be entirely innocent of the “quest for deals” scene, but I have to say the commercialization of experiences has become rather blasé and is no longer truly enticing for me. Free junk and get more for your money are not even close the kind of thrill I seek these days.

What I want is meaning: I want someone to tell me their story in a way that involves me, that pulls at my heartstrings so strongly that I cannot resist but to pour out my heart and plead for more, plus to open the opportunity for me to get my foot in the door… to cross the threshold of perception into a realm that we, not just me, engage in together.

Why do I want others to speak to me? Why can’t I just as well talk to them? Well, the answer may surprise you. I can choose to participate, but I cannot force others to do so… — but, then: how can I force them to speak? I can’t. But nature does. No one can not speak. Everyone is always sending out messages — even if that message is something like “I have locked myself in my room and I refuse to open up to you.”

Such a message tells me something. It pulls on my heartstrings. I want to become engaged, I want to participate… somehow, in a “positive” way, as best as I can.

Such engagement gives my life meaning. My life is not isolated. I cannot not react. Our existence is about you and me. We are interwoven with us and them. 8)

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