One day as I was exploring a cave in the Ryukyu islands, I came across a small shrine surrounded by melted candles. It wasn't fancy or covered with ornate reliefs, it was very plain and judging by it's weathered appearance, very old. As I looked upon the simple ancient structure my mind began to fully comprehend what I was looking at. I realized that I was looking at a place of reverence; someone long ago cared enough to toil and sweat to build this thing. For what or who; some ancient Japanese god? I don't know, but the point is that it still stood to that day in the hopes that someone would realize its importance. I chuckled to myself for at the time I thought that the idea was amusing; the little thing had failed and no one cared about it anymore. It was sad, I thought, that this monument built to respect and worship, is now decayed and worthless. I noticed a small bit of wick embedded in the fat of what was left of a thick candle, so I dug in and pulled it upright. It took a while, but I finally managed to light it with my Zippo. Light danced off the caves jagged walls with a mellow warm orange glow. The little tongue didn't last but a few minutes, yet during that time the light it cast on the little shrine seemed to give it life; life it hadn't breathed in a long time. Before the flicker died I pulled out my last Lucky Strike and lit it with the dying flame. I took a long drag as the tiny wink vanished and a skinny snake of smoke rose in the shadow of the now lifeless shrine. As I reflected on the life of the shrine, my thoughts trailed to my life, and then to all life. This seemingly meaningless occurrence seemed to have triggered a breakthrough switch in my mind to where I could see all things clearer; things began to make sense and all the cosmological mysteries seemed solved. I rode a wave of enlightenment on the surfboard of cognitive clarity. The meaning of life was in my grasp when I realized I could really go for some pizza. Then I was ecstatic to remember, that I still had some leftover in the fridge from the night before. I was sixteen then and foolish. I gave up the mysteries of the universe for some cold pizza, but I think if I had a chance to do it over again, I'd still choose the pizza; I realize now that enjoying a good pizza is integral to life's meaning. Without the joy of pizza, what does life mean anyway?
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