We all need a goal in life. Unless you’re just coasting through or already have the “2.4 kids, house, dogs, spouse” plan in mind, you’re probably looking for some purpose. It is purpose that, according to Smith, defines us.
I had a long time to contemplate the question of life. Do I want my life to be as simple as that of 99% of this planet’s population? (Of course, that is mostly bacteria and algae and… well, don’t be offended, that 99% doesn’t include you. Possibly.) Is my life entirely about, for lack of a better word, procreation? I hope not. There has to be something better. Something grander. Something… with purpose. Perhaps it is purpose that we define, that we give, that only we are accountable to. That’s a possible purpose.
Not to put too fine a point on it (and, honestly, I’d rather not put down all of my thinking on this blog), but I’ve got a purpose in mind for now. For the time being.
There is a place in Bellevue called the Tap House Grill. They have 160 beers on tap. Yes, 160 distinct beers on tap at any given time. (At the moment of this writing, they’re running IPA Week, where 40 taps are replaced with special IPA beers.) If you have all 160 beers, they put your name on a plaque. At the Bellevue restaurant, there are fewer than seven plaques. As Clooney’s character Ryan Bingham said it in the film “Up in the Air”, “more people have walked on the moon.” So yes, I am attempting to be yet another name on a plaque. I am attempting to try 160 beers. And kill my liver in the process. But that’s just a side-purpose, if you will.
It’s not a life goal. But it is a temporary kind of purpose. And yes, in a way, it defines me.