Questioning the Concept of "Importance"
Or: I Have Traveled a Good Deal in Hyannis*
The following is from a personal journal entry I first dictated into my iPhone while walking along Main Street, Hyannis, Massachusetts, where I live, then through the town green and down to the nearby harbor. While the post doesn’t fit my historical definition of “essay,” it does address some familiar subjects, like self-fulfillment, finding purpose, and making meaning in life, so I thought it would be of interest to my readers. Keep in mind that these are spontaneous thoughts, not an argument or philosophical platform. Thanks for being here!
Feb. 23, 2025—What does it mean to live life well? Does living well matter in the grand scheme of things? Why is it important to maximize the quality of one’s life?
I do have this feeling that I wasted most of my life worrying about the wrong things. At 60 years old, is that repairable? Can I make up for it? Can I live for the right reasons now?
I’ve often wondered about the meaning of the word important, as in: Is it important to live true to oneself? Is my job important?
Do these questions make sense? Or do we just make up this idea that our individual selves, and our lives and activities, must feel important and meaningful?
Well, anyway, over the past year since I started writing on Substack, really spending a lot of time on that, and much less time pursuing an income, I have felt not only happier, but more myself than ever before. I really like writing. It feels important to me.
And this has started me thinking about the rest of my time here, and how to “fix” my past mistakes and misunderstandings. Like, for instance, I keep having these urges to get rid of all remnants of my old worries and concerns, my money-chasing and meaning-making activities. Get rid of all the woodworking tools, all the junk and antiques, the crafting equipment, the books, everything. Strip it all down to the basics. Start afresh. Just me and my laptop. Putting all of my thoughts and feelings into words.
None of the stuff seems important to me anymore. Not even the idea of, say, building a museum-quality stringed instrument or some other fine artistic creation (I had devoted a few years in the not-too-distant past to learning how to build guitars). That just seems like a clever way to prove something to myself, that I’m talented, smart, special; and to get attention. And that’s a shallow goal.
I understand that to another artist the creation, and the act of creating, is important, of utmost importance, and that’s why the objects of their imaginations take on such life. That’s real art, which I do appreciate tremendously. It’s just that I don’t think I actually have, or have ever had, that kind of deep-felt and unquestioned passion for something that can be so... self-absorbing. Yes, I have talent, and I have had periods of deep flow during the creative act. And I’m sure I would again if I chose to go back into the field of woodworking or some other artistic endeavor. But what those activities lacked for me was convincing long-term sustainability. A purpose outside of my own needs and pleasures. Broader importance.
But as it turns out, what does actually feel important to me, and always has, is the consideration of questions like, What does it mean to exist? What does it mean to live well? What are we all doing here? Why do we make ourselves and others miserable? How can we establish harmony instead?
Thinking about and writing about such things feels important to me.
DB
PS—I’m not getting rid of my tools yet. 🙂
*The subtitle of this post is borrowed from a line in Thoreau’s Walden, “I have traveled a good deal in Concord.”
Here are more pics of Hyannis (all photos by the author):
If you’ve enjoyed this work, will you consider tossing a few dollars into my tip cup? ☕️ I’m very grateful for your generosity! 🙏💚
(The Buddha-themed line divider was lovingly designed and donated by the talented
of the Creator Retreat. Ever grateful to you, Teri!)
Reading this just at the perfect time! About an hour ago, I was watching a really wonderful video where someone said how a lot of people start to question their existence and saying "What's the point of all this?" after spiritual awakening or self-awareness. He suggested that people should simply follow their thoughts, the "inner dialogue," and see where it leads them. He put it simply by saying, paint if you want to paint, dance if you want to dance, and make money if you want to make money.
Love how your post correlates with this. The urge to strip life down to its essence, to let go of old identities and pursuits that once felt significant but now seem like distractions—I get that. It’s not just about shedding physical possessions, but about releasing the mental weight of past expectations, of proving something to ourselves or others.
I don’t think it’s ever too late to live for the right reasons. Maybe the very act of questioning, of realigning with what feels true now, is the repair itself. Some people never reach that point. You have. And if writing brings that sense of meaning and alignment to you, then maybe that’s the most important thing.
It's 6:00 am on the East Coast of Canada. Don, what a wonderful "story" to wake up to! We all need to connect, and it seems to me that everything you did brought you to where you are now. Your words matter! A lot!
PS
WE Canadians are standing with our American friends. The ones that are educated get it. You all know how hard it is to get the news straight. I am lucky that I'm on Substack with good sources. I vow to get the following word out as much as I can this next few days.
Sorry for high-jacking your beautiful post.
Don't forget Friday February 28th, we need to stand together all over the world. Enough of orange F*@# face and f-elon F*@# (no capital letters for them!)
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