There are times where meaning and truth come out of opacity, to translucency and into clarity. By which I mean, therea re times wehre things just make a helluva lot of sense. now is one of those times.

I can't precisely say where this came from, but it did. I was reading "The Art of Racing in the Rain" which is a wonderful story, I might add (I'm halfway through). And I started thinking - I'm the luckiest guy I know. I love life, even when it's hard.

My life is not average, my life is easy. I have great friends, great parents and family, food on the table, blankets on my bed and I get to spend my time doing things I enjoy. Our country is not war torn, nor is my neighborhood. I deserve very little, if any, of it. But self-deprecation is not what I'm trying to accomplish here.

In this vein, I often think about words to describe life. One word tends to be one I keep coming back to - beautiful. Life is beautiful. The things that happen in life are beautiful as is life itself. Take a second, realize how many unlikely circumstances in the universe have had to happen for you have taken a breath...it's amazing.

Again, in this vein, I often think about what the point of life might be. For the longest time, I thought it was simply to live. To be. To have life. But reveling in living and being appreciative of life itself, I ruminated this evening, isn't the point. Because the beauty of life is only partly an intrinsic quality. In addition to things having inherent beauty, I think it also takes something else. Intent.

So, I think life isn't just about living - that's almost lazy and necessary but not sufficient. I think the point is to both make beautiful things or make things beautiful. Essentially it is to provide goods and services, except the end goal is not a profit, it is attaining beauty. I think it's that simple.