The Search for Meaning: A Memoir

January 1993

The fang of excitement got hold of me this evening. I sang out loud releasing all the fire that burned my inner self. You see, there are few remaining weeks and I would be on my own venturing into new lands, discovering new frontiers, trying to know the rope of life, the way to the market place.

The curiousity of discovering something other than what I've known and seen do further add to the excitement felt within.

I am still restless. Just as what I've written in my introduction to my thesis, man is moved by that recalcitrant  yearning for meaning. Man will always be restless as long as he is in wont of knowing his true nature and expressing it authentically in his own unique, creative manner of coming to be.

I am in search for that identity. It is a painful though. Sometimes as wise men attested, the quest is fraught with danger--existential and otherwise. Along the path one might thread there are Damocles swords handing precariously ready to cut him into pieces.

But I will take that risk. Nothing will happen to me if I don't plunge myself into the water. We learn much about life on the dusty streets than inside the damp libraries. Life gets choke up in boredom when it is robbed of adventures, of questions, of curiousity, of daring, of doubts.

The discovery of the self follows through--when man has undergone the test of fire and the baptism of blood. It is in the fruits that one gets to know what kind of tree grown of him after all the years of germination. And that if ever one falls short of what is desired, at least the legacy will keep the banner high and push through with the Odyssey till Ithaca is reached.

Life, so beautiful, so mysterious. How great it is for one man to comprehend!

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