Without Meaning

eric mccarty
2 min readJun 19, 2021
Without Meaning — Poetry — Headless Now — Moca McCarty Photo

Without meaning:

science points to a universe without meaning, purposeless with exception of its own function — and with no grand designer to make it all appear. The world, and stars, and the infinite space of between, arose spontaneously, without divine order. In this regard we are simply a function of life, highly evolved, yet not of anymore significant than any other ape, and certainly no more so than the other countless lifeforms that make this planet home.

and yet…

there is some magic here,

it’s the miracle of existence. That we are here, alive, and without real reason as to why any of this should be. Somehow, we were given as the universe. Home. Our purpose is simplicity itself — we only have to exist, without question of worth nor design.

to just be.

do we need more than this?

for most of us, it seems we do — we’ve imagined purpose where none exists, dreaming of gods in our own image, and claiming dominion of the world. We believe our purpose is control. Worse, we believe this has been granted as our right. This is where we miss the true magic, a universe capable of a spontaneous event so large as to bring itself into existence. And it all continues even now, expanding, new stars created and collapsing through infinite exchange. We exist because a star once exploded, a random event, yet here we are and all by sacrifice of light.

if there’s a God, it’s existence itself.

so how do we navigate a world without meaning?

with care, awe, and compassion.

through this immensity we are small, fragile, and yet somehow too we belong amidst it all, at home within the largeness. It’s not the we are infinite beings within the universe, it’s that there’s only the infinite, the boundless space of our belonging. We are the universe itself, still part of this self-creating event. Our very nature is spacious, and through this we offer the compassion of our hold, an embrace that just continues to evolve, always willing in its inclusion. Our meaning is self-creating as well, just as spontaneous, and doesn’t involve fulfilling anything but our own commandment of existence…

that we are, and for no reason found.

in this light we see everything as rare, holy by nature of its chance. Our reverence is reserved for all that shares this one existence. We are in awe of our own great fortune. None of this ever had to be…

and yet,

here we are.





eric mccarty

Writer, prose poetry, meditation teacher and lifetime student