Existential Angst - The Ultimate Cause

One day,
there will be no “me”
to know.
that I ever was.

Only if

Leaving happens
  only if—
    you arrived in—in the first place.
Heart breaks
  only if—
    you placed it in—in someone’s hands.
And you shall.

Why Search for Purpose in a Meaningless Universe?

 

The stars do not ask why they burn, the planets do not ponder their orbits, and the galaxies do not seek justification for their dance. But living within a meaningless universe, we do.

Arun Kumar

Arun Kumar + AI

Summary: It is not difficult to argue that the universe exists without inherent meaning or purpose, indifferent to our struggles and joys. Yet, once we accept this, we crave meaning to anchor our lives. To keep existential absurdity and despair at bay,  and to look forward to tomorrow , we must create purpose. In the end, it is the consequences of meaning we forge shapes the legacy we leave behind.

In seeking understanding of the meaning and purpose of the universe, what answer could be simpler than: it is just there. It does not have a larger meaning, a goal, or a purpose for its existence. Why does it have to have one? We do so many things that are also devoid of any meaning and purpose.

What could be simpler than a universe that does not strive towards a predetermined end, nor does it know where it is going? It does not have a long-term retirement plan for some distant future (for that matter, most of us do not have one either). If it had one, where would it be kept?

It lives in an enteral present. It simply exists.

If the universe could speak, it might ask why we are so intent on adorning it with meaning. Why do we insist on projecting purpose onto something that, by all appearances, is indifferent to our existence, to our joys, to our struggles? We come and go, it does not blink an eye, break out into a smile, or shed a tear.

The stars do not ask why they burn, the planets do not ponder their orbits, and the galaxies do not seek justification for their slow spiraling dance. It is only us — conscious beings, aware of our own mortality — who feel the need to impose meaning upon the vast, indifferent cosmos in which we exist.

Perhaps we search for meaning because, without it, we feel adrift. Without anchors, we float in a shoreless sea without a North Star for a guide.

The thought that the universe might be devoid of meaning is unsettling, because it suggests that our own lives in it might also lack inherent meaning. If the universe is simply a collection of matter and energy, an inevitable outcome of physical laws and is unfolding without an intentional design, then what does that say about us? Are we also merely an inevitable outcome of a fleeting arrangement of molecules that evolved in an energy constrained environment?

Once we have convinced ourselves of this, the absurdity of life without innate meaning gets amplified. From this conviction, the emergence of existential despair is a natural outcome. It leads to a feeling that something is not quite right. How could it be that there is no inherent meaning; there has to be more.

In the moments that rise above the struggles of daily survival, when we have the mental space to reflect, we begin to question the meaning and purpose of our efforts, our struggles. Is the sum of all we do just for survival and reproduction because that is what being a biological form means?

The inevitability of natural selection in an energy-contained environment certainly argues that all our efforts are for survival and reproduction. Biology, as we understand it, is shaped by the forces of evolution, by the relentless drive to persist and propagate. If we were purely instinct-driven, if consciousness had never emerged, perhaps this would be enough. The struggle for self-preservation would be the instinctive goal, and there would be no need for meaning beyond that.

But we are conscious. We are aware of ourselves, of our fleeting existence, of the future, of the vastness of the universe. And so, finding no inherent meaning is as discombobulating as falling off a cliff in a VR world. To find solid ground under our feet, we must create meaning and purpose for our life, because it is those that make us look forward to getting out of bed.

The necessity of creating meaning and purpose is not merely philosophical, it has practical reasons. It makes the journey easier. It allows us to have a functional life. Without meaning, life will feel like an endless cycle of tasks, a series of days strung together without direction. But when we create meaning — through love and relationships, engaging in some creative process — we give ourselves anchors to hold onto.

Perhaps meaning is not something that exists outside of us, waiting to be discovered. Perhaps meaning is something we create and weave into the fabric of our own lives, something we construct to make existence bearable.

And maybe that is it.

In the end, the universe does not need meaning. But we do. And so, we have to create one. It is an integral part of us, and while we are living and with our passing, some of the consequences of meaning and purpose we create touch life of others or become our legacy. In the end, all that remains is the consequences of legacy of meaning we gave our ephemeral life. It is those consequences that will stay on after we are gone to become part of a meaningless universe.

Ciao, and thanks for reading.

Letters from a Retirement Community (2): A Reflection on our Pickleball Journey

 Aging changes how we play, but the joy of the game never fades

Arun Kumar

Arun Kumar + AT

Summary: Moving to a retirement community offers time for reflection and discovery in innocuous activities playing Pickleball. The game mirrors life’s trajectory — rapid improvement followed by inevitable plateaus. Gradual aging shifts the playing style, emphasizing strategy over speed.

A move to a retirement community is, in many ways, a transition into a new chapter of life. It is a place where time slows just enough to give mental space that allows for reflection, where routines take shape but have an elastic rhythm, and where one has the chance to explore new pursuits without needing to worry about the outcomes. Win or lose, just being a participant serves the goal. For me, one such pursuit has been Pickleball — a game I had never played before, but one that quickly became an integral part of my life.

Belonging to a Tribe

One of the most unexpected joys of playing Pickleball was the immediate sense of belonging to a tribe. The courts are more than a place to hit the pickleball back and forth; they are a meeting ground, a place where conversations begin and a sense of companionships are forged. For someone like me, newly settled in this community, Pickleball has been a gateway to making connections. There is an unspoken camaraderie among the players that continues off the court; whether you win or lose, the game brings people together in a shared pursuit of having an engagement, striving for improvement (even in our old age, it still happens and is good), and a light competitive spirit (although we keep saying, it is just a game, it is hard to give up the pursuit of winning).

As a newcomer, I expected to struggle with the game and feel out of place amidst players who had been at it for years. But that was not the case. Pickleball community has an inviting quality; even the seasoned players are eager to share tips, encourage progress, and cheer small victories (even if accidental). It is not just a sport but a welcoming experience, making introverts like me feel at home.

The Arc of Improvement

When I first stepped onto the court, I felt clumsy and uncertain. But as with any new skill, improvement came quickly. Each successive game brought better serves, return of reflexes, better hand and eyes coordination, and a growing understanding of playing strategy. With every match, I found myself more attuned to the movement of the ball, anticipating returns instead of merely reacting to them.

Yet, as with all pursuits, making progress gradually becomes harder. The rapid improvement that one experiences at first does not last forever. There are long plateaus, moments when the victories are fewer and the gains are harder to come by. The trajectory of Pickleball skills mirrors the flight of a stone thrown into the air — it rises quickly, gets slower as it reaches its peak, and then slows to a crawl as it approaches its highest point. The amount of work one has to put into improving is inversely proportional to the level of excellence one is at. For a novice, improvements are quick, and little effort leads to marked improvements; for an advanced player, considerably more level of effort is needed to see small improvement.

The Parallel Arc of Aging

Even as my skills improve, there is another trajectory that runs alongside this one and will have a subtle influence on the arc of Pickleball. That trajectory is the arc of aging.

The passage of time is relentless, and with it comes the gradual decline of physical ability. As I get older, I will see a shift in how I play. With age, I will no longer chase down fast-moving balls or engage in rallies. Instead, I will begin to rely more on placement and precision, compensating for dwindling speed with strategy.

I have already witnessed this unfolding in my fellow players. Those who may have dominated the court now play at a slower pace, focusing less on winning and more on simply enjoying the movement. And then there are those who have stepped away entirely from being on the court, watching from the sidelines, reminiscing about the games they once played and what life used to be.

In Hinduism, life is said to be divided into four phases: Brahmacharya (the learning phase), Grihastha (the householder phase), Vanaprastha (the withdrawal phase), and Sannyasa (the phase of contemplation). The arc of Pickleball, in its own way, follows a similar trajectory. There is the learning phase, full of excitement and quick progress. There is a competitive phase, where improvement is pursued with vigor. Then comes the slower phase, where enjoyment of playing supersedes competition, and finally, there is contemplation — the time when one watches from the sidelines, reflecting on the games played, tournaments won, and joys shared.

The Unpredictability of It All

Life is also unpredictable, and every journey carries the possibility of abrupt endings. Pickleball is no different.

Players are unexpectedly forced to quit due to falls and injuries, cutting short their envisioned trajectory. Pickleball, for all its joy, is not without risks, and life itself has a habit of throwing curveballs when least expected. In that sense, the game is a reminder of impermanence and that continuation of nothing is guaranteed.

While playing, I should not take my Pickleball days for granted. At this age injuries take much longer to heal. But if luck allows, I will follow the envisioned Pickleball trajectory. In the course of time, one day I will be a happy spectator, watching ‘younger seniors’ play with the same passion that I once had. Until then, with luck I will continue to play and glide along different phases of my Pickleball career.

After all, life and Pickleball share the same truth: we must play with a sense of engagement, knowing that every rally, every shot, and every phase of journey could be fleeting. Fingers crossed, I will get to that final stage, reminiscing on the sidelines with a satisfied (and yet, nostalgic) smile, remembering the days when I was on the court and someone else was watching me play. Until then…

Ciao, and thanks for reading.