Wellness Journalism: What do you mean?

Stalking the citizens of UCSD at random, I ask one, simple question:

What is the meaning of life?

My investigation begins at the food co-op. Three people behind the counter discussing tofu scramble look at me curiously as I approach the register empty-handed, then even more curiously as I begin my line of inquiry. The first girl says blankly, “I don’t know.” The second elaborates, “There may be an answer, but I don’t know it.” The third replies, “Forge your own destiny. Your essence preceeds your destiny, rather than proceeds it.” I think this means that my essence blazes the trail ahead—it is not the fumes that trail behind (thank goodness!).

Thus fed, I wander toward the radio station where another group of three is seated outside upon a weathered couch. When I mention that I am blogging on the subject of Spiritual Wellness, they look self-consciously at their cigarettes. “Self-improvement,” says one, perhaps for good measure. “Relationships amongst each other,” says the next. “I’m going to improve on that,” says the third, with a triumphant grin. “Inter-connectivity.”

Now I’m on a roll. From the bookstore, to the coffee shop, to the benches, I collect responses: To make a difference as long as you’re here. Fulfilling your goals. To find the thing that is most challenging. Everything changes, and we have to do the best we can. It’s about ‘the end.’ To try and leave the world a little better than you found it. Do something useful. The struggle. Family, support, and love. To find something I love to do. To enjoy being human with all the senses, to take in the world around us. Work, work, work, and then die. Being happy. To stay distracted for long enough, and intensely enough, to avoid noticing all the bad in life. To enjoy yourself. The pursuit of knowledge. It doesn’t matter—if you gotta look, you won’t find it. Follow your passion. Love.

At the Mandeville coffee cart, I ambush a table of people in deep conversation. After a bit of smirking, they answer in round-robin fashion. “I’m not that old,” is followed by “Forty-two” (This particular number has come up twice, a reference to something I have not read or seen. Maybe you get it). Another man searches through his mental annex for the proper translation, but, unable to find it, writes into my notebook in German: “Geglückte beziehuugen zu auderen meuschen haben.” This means “Having successful relationships with other people that are meaningful and fulfilling,” in a nuance more satisfying than can be rendered in English.

I approach two older gentleman seated around a laptop, mainly because one of them has green hair. “That’s an unanswerable question,” answers the first. Then comes the one in green: “Whereas that might be an interesting question, there are other interesting questions that are more easily answered, and I would rather think about those.” Touché.

I believe that my research boils down to one ingredient. The meaning of life is the one you give to it. Make it count.