My classmate was trying to be clever. He thought he could stump my dad, one of the smartest people you’ll ever meet. It didn’t work. That said, I’m grateful he tried because what my father said in response shapes my life to this day.

We were in my high school calculus class and my father was the teacher. Yep, I had my dad for calculus. Physics and Algebra II as well. It made things a bit challenging socially at times but I wouldn’t have it any other way. He was and is the best teacher I’ve ever known.

One of the things you need to know about my dad is that he isn’t a great teacher just because he’s smart (after his Masters degree in math he went on to get a PhD in philosophy just for fun). He’s a great teacher because his main concern is helping his students learn how to think. The subject matter is immaterial. Math, science, wood shop, basket weaving, it doesn’t matter. To him all subjects are just spare parts to be used to build a well developed Thinking Machine, a structured brain equipped to help his students process whatever complex issues life throws their way. Would that there were more like him.

One evidence of this approach that I observed during my high school years was Extraneous Questions Day. Every other Monday, instead of unpacking the next daunting calculus equation, he would attempt to answer questions from the class. About anything. Whatever was on our adolescent minds. Topics ranged from sex and dating to college and career paths to basketball and auto mechanics. We loved it. And not just because it was a reprieve from a math induced coma. He treated us like adults and valued our contributions to the discussions.  We felt respected which made us respect him in return.

It was on one such Extraneous Questions Day that I witnessed my classmate’s unsuccessful attempt to best my father. The class had grown silent for a moment as we digested whatever nugget of wisdom my dad had just offered us. That’s when my friend lifted his head and threw out the next question – “What is the meaning of life?”

He laughed as he said it, not really taking it seriously. We could all tell by his delivery that he didn’t really expect an answer. But my dad didn’t laugh. He looked thoughtful for a few seconds. Then he asked us to think back to the absolute best day of our lives, the one that stood out above all the rest. What made it great? A moment later he encouraged us to remember the most terrible day of our lives. Why was it so painful?

After giving us a minute of quiet pondering, he said something like this: “I’m guessing that for most of us, both our best days and our worst days had a lot to do with other people, people who are significant to us. Maybe that gives us a clue to the question ‘What is the meaning of life?’. I believe the answer is relationships. For me, the meaning of life can be found in our relationships with ourselves, with others, and with God.”

We were silent. It was a drop the mic moment. As young as we were, my friends and I all somehow knew that we were just handed something weighty, something important, even if we weren’t able to fully grasp why.

Over the last 30 years I’ve often thought about that day. I’ve come to see the truth in those profoundly simple words. While I’m still unpacking their depths, I’m pretty sure my dad was right. I’ve come to believe, like my father before me, that the meaning of life is found in relationships. Our relationships with ourselves, with others, and, for me as a person of faith, with God.

This age old question is bigger than any one post, than any one story. We’re just scratching the surface here. If you decide to keep reading these musings, we’ll dig deeper together in the days ahead. I hope you’ll find it helpful on your journey toward Becoming Yourself.