Wisdom says I am nothing,
Love says I am everything,
Between the two my life moves.
Nisargadatta Maharaj

For as long as I can remember, my heart has yearned for something more. Not something material, but meaningful. Growing up, my family encouraged me to look outside of myself to find the meaning I so desperately desired. Go to church, read the Bible, pray to God, and all will be alright. At least this is what I was told. Eager to fill the emptiness inside, I flung myself into the word of the Lord. I learned everything I could about Catholicism and how to defend my faith to nonbelievers. I learned Bible verses and rituals. When to stand, when to sit, when to kneel. But it all felt forced lacking true personal meaning. In my eyes, the congregation reflected programmed machines more than faithful followers of Christ. As I sat and listened to the muffled voices mindlessly recite the Act of Penitence, the Gloria in excelsis Deo and the Our Father, the desperate yearning that lied dormant inside began to resurface.

Disenchanted by the dissatisfaction I felt, I opened my mind to new perspectives. I approached anything presenting itself as “the right way” or “absolute truth” with hesitation. If I had learned anything by this point, it was that no one institution or field of thought had all the answers. Skeptical I began studying philosophy and history steering away from the dogma of institutionalized religion. I replaced faith with fact then skepticism with cynicism. Questions only led to more questions. Discouraged, I conceded. If I couldn’t find meaning after years of studying the world’s greatest philosophers and historians than meaning must not exist. I begrudgingly concluded that perhaps meaning in and of itself does not exist, but is something we choose to create. The emptiness I so desperately aspired to eliminate grew into despair and anguish. There is no God, only the God we created. Or as Nietzsche infamously said, “God is dead.”

Overcome with agony and terrified by the thought that I may never rid myself of the emptiness inside, I fell into an unshakable depression. Pessimism replaced what once was an obnoxiously cheery spirit. With no meaning or purpose, I ceased to be an active participant in the world resistant to be a part of anything void of meaning. Disconnected from reality, I felt isolated and forgotten. If it weren’t for a harrowing fear of death, I may still be wrapped in the chains of darkness. I needed help.

With nowhere to go but up, I reexamined the direction of my spiritual journey, and decided to turn the quest inward. Starting with individual and group therapy, I first tackled my depression, and identified the areas of my life that were no longer working. Meditation became a part of my daily routine. One evening I cried for the entire twenty minutes as I sat focusing on my breath. As the negative energy rushed from my body, I released the pain and discontent I harbored for so many years. An overwhelming sense of peace washed over me. There was no preacher, no voice from heaven and no wise words being read. Instead I experienced a sense of oneness with all that ever was, is and will be. From this moment, I gazed upon the world through a different lens. God is not dead, but he is not words in a book either. God is the universe. God is nature. God is each and every single one of us.

Beyond the words we use to describe our experience, we are all part of a shared reality. Different cultures and different religions may describe God differently, they may teach a different path to finding meaning, but beyond it all, we seek the same connection to something greater than ourselves. Something to prove that life has meaning and purpose. It doesn’t matter what we call it or how we get there, but how we live our life and treat ourselves and others. We must honor each spiritual tradition and realize its importance in creating a medium for every person to discover the ultimate truth for him or herself. Love is our ultimate reality, and compassion is the action of love.

I no longer subscribe to the austerity of the Catholic doctrine or the nihilistic philosophy of the existentialists, but I do revere the teaching of faith, hope and love and the notion that meaning is self-created. Without these primordial beliefs, I would not have come to my current understanding that in many ways meaning is a choice. Living a meaningful life is choosing to approach each moment and every living being with compassion, having faith in myself and others and hope that one day we all find the true meaning and purpose we are searching for.