"There’s more to life…"

(Call it illness-induced-philosophical-comtemplation or fever-fried-brain-crap. Here’s something I thought of writing yesterday, while the flesh was weak.)

Recently, I’ve been hearing a lot of that. “There’s more to life…” Feels good to hear, doesn’t it? It kinds of signals some unknown wonderful higher purpose in life compared to the current mundane, boring lifestyle.

But I really do not understand. What more? Over what?

Long time ago (which actually isn’t all that long), when I was still a joyful little girl with the naïve notion that life was all about the A’levels, my form teacher came along and gave us a most touching and enlightening speech. “There’s more to life than studies! Think of your family, your friends…” How inspiring.

But it leads me to wonder, one day when I have developed all that social capital (bonding and bridging and what not), is it the day when I have attained the higher meaning in life? I’m afraid not. Because a little rubbing at the crystal ball will show someone, somewhere along the way who’ll tell me, “You know, everyone’s gotta settle down someday.” The tired me inside will find that inspiring again, and I’ll find someone and start a family. Then of course, I must not neglect the “more in life” such that I must not only provide for my family, I must also spent some quality time with them.

But I’m sure, somehow again, someone will come along and this time he’ll say, “But all you’re enjoying now are but earthly pursuits! Think divine. Think celestial. Think spiritual. There’s more to life…” So I’ll abandon my family, give away my worldly goods and take to a life searching for the ultimate meaning of life in some unowned woods somewhere. I’ll live a life of “four big all empty” and (I hate to use this), “see through red dust”. Somehow, these things are kind of “IN” now, with people putting a lot of cash into renovating their houses to look “zen-like” and “back to nature”. (But I digress.)

Cool, isn’t it? There’s more to life. And there’s always more, it doesn’t seem to stop.

Some time ago, I had this lofty dream of wishing I could travel the world owning nothing but whatever I had on me, doing odd jobs, making friends from all over the world, seeing the world as it really is. I thought, THAT would be the life! But really, I ask myself again, how will I feel to leave all my family and friends, uproot myself from the place and culture I belong to, to travel the world, make friends I’ll probably see only once in my life, visit places I do not belong to and understand cultures that are not mine? Will I be happy? Then again, is the pursuit of happiness the ultimate “more” in life?

Wow.

Now this little phrase “There’s more to life” isn’t all that simple, is it? It looks quite profound for my little brain to comprehend. And I wonder. Do all those people who say it with an air of knowing really do understand what they are trying to say? Are they all in some kind of conspiracy to keep this wonderful knowledge away from me?

I really do not understand and I shall not pretend to.