I found meaning in the clouds!

I was on a plane that raced the setting sun on Friday.  It took off from the Pacific ocean at 1:50 CDT, landed in Atlanta at 9:30pm EDT.  I was so tired, but set an alarm to wake me up so I could watch the rapid sunset.   It was mostly a test to make sure life was still meaningless without Jesus.

Stuff like that makes me look at the people who say life is meaningless without believing a guy rose from the dead and sympathize with them for all they must be missing.  And to think: Jesus is what they say gives their life meaning.

About JT Eberhard

When not defending the planet from inevitable apocalypse at the rotting hands of the undead, JT is a writer and public speaker about atheism, gay rights, and more. He spent two and a half years with the Secular Student Alliance as their first high school organizer. During that time he built the SSA’s high school program and oversaw the development of groups nationwide. JT is also the co-founder of the popular Skepticon conference and served as the events lead organizer during its first three years.

  • Jasper

    A year or so ago, I had the opportunity to fly down to DC (and frustratingly enough, my job snatched me back like 2 days before the Reason Rally). On the flight down, from Maine to Boston, we took a little twin-engine prop plane, so one could pretty much look around 360 degrees. It was sunset, and we were over the cloud cover. I swear it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen (which isn’t difficult to achieve with a basement-dwelling geek). The other people in the plane were reading magazines, and I was like “What the fuck is wrong with you? We’re in a flying metal tube, sailing at 5000ft over the planet surface at sunset, something that our ancestors could only dream of!”

  • Matthew Ostergren

    Reminds me of the bit by Lious CK where he’s talking about how amazing it is to be sitting in the sky.

  • Aoife O’Riordan

    So there I was the other day, paddling a kayak down the Grand Canal.. or was it the Royal Canal? I can never remember. Either way, I was paddling a kayak down one of the canals that run from Dublin to Shannon on a sunny spring day in the countryside. Every so often people would pass by walking their dogs. Once we passed a man fishing. We stopped for a picnic by a raised bog railway bridge, taking a walk through the cool grass and sun-warmed stones by the tracks. Paddling back to the cottage against the breeze, our arms were aching by the time we pulled the boats ashore and went inside to toast marshmallows over the peat fire.

    There’s something, I think, churlish about asking for meaning in a day like that. It doesn’t need meaning. Hot sun and cool water, green grass and warm stones, happy soggy dogs, the sound of oars and birds singing, and bundling in to warm ourselves and cook a great big pot of everything over a fire at the end of it all. To ask for meaning on top of it all? Isn’t what we have enough?

  • Quentin Long

    The “meaning” of existence? “Meaning” is a human invention, just like money and languages and political parties. If you want your life to have “meaning”, pick a meaning!