In the larger scheme of things, if

In the larger scheme of things, if there is one, why does what I
do really matter?
Why, as a professional, do I experience those sudden, uninvited
moments when I regret the vanishing of a past I have barely
lived and can only faintly recall; a present that continues to slip
away from me until it, too, becomes a rueful reminder of
possibilities forever lost; and a future that looms as being more
ominous than hopeful?
Is there something more to life, to my life, that gives it purpose
and rationale?
Why is it so difficult for me to believe in the existence of
something greater than the here-and-now?
Why do I find myself, at the most inopportune times, looking
for something more in my life?
Why am I so restless?
Why do I cling to the elusive hope that wisdom is ultimately
attainable, that it is possible to live a life with genuine dignity
and integrity, that somewhere, somehow, I can find a sustaining
meaning in it all?
Why am I alive anyway?
Seekers tend to ask “why” rather than “how” or “what.” Staying at the
“how” and “what” levels of everyday existence in teaching a professional
seminar is a significant piece of my job, I readily admit. But after many