What’s the point?

As I was traveling home last night from Queens, I was looking out the window (I wasn’t driving so I was being safe), I saw at the top of a building, crudely painted, the words, What’s the point.  There wasn’t a question mark – more of a statement, I felt.  Simply someone asking – what’s the point.

A damn good question.

As I was feeling a little melancholy at that moment, it struck me.  What was the point?  Of what you ask?  Of anything.  Of life.

We all ask ourselves that at one time or another.  Whether out of frustration with a situation, or anger, or confusion…or out of true wondering – what the heck is all this for?  Why am I here?  Why am I going through this?  Why is this or that so difficult?  What’s the point of doing anything or caring about anything….it’s just a waste of time, isn’t it?

My inner pessimist was getting the better of me.  But it is a legitimate question.  Sometimes the battle seems daunting, the outcome uncertain.  Sometimes we are tired of the struggle and wonder why we must go through all of this “drama” when in the end, so  much of what we fret and worry about, doesn’t matter in the long scheme.  We are born, we live, and we die.  Isn’t that the gist of it?

The answer is (in true Buddha Balboa fashion) yes AND no.  Yes – we are born, we live and we die.  That is true.  That is the nature of things.  And along the way, we ride up and down the mountain, at various speeds and skill levels, trying to hold on tight for fear we may fly off.  We don’t have a darned clue what’s around the bend – we just don’t know. 

What struck me about the “graffitied” scrawl, what’s the point, was that although it made me a wee bit sad, it also unshackled me.  It reminded me that so much of the “hell” I go through in life is of my own doing.  That I didn’t have to fight for this or that cause, or continue on a journey that had no purpose.  That in asking myself, what’s the point, about any task, I could become more clear and then release the things I found “pointless.” 

Sometimes I find doing laundry pointless.  My clothes are just going need washing again in the near future, so what’s the point?  Well, I do it because I want to feel clean and look good.  That’s all.  Yes, I’m trivializing, but I think you get my point. 

Although what’s the point could be seen as a sort of diminishing of something worthwhile, it’s also a forthright way of asking the internal question out loud – Hey Self – What’s the point of all this?  Why are you doing this?  Think about it.  Get to the point.

A simple question can sometimes be the most profound answer. – BB