Why?

I was raised to believe that life has meaning and purpose. I now recognize that for what it is: a belief. I suppose the argument with science is that in its objective empiricism it cannot prove or disprove subjective beliefs. Science can, and has, proved certain beliefs wrong, incorrect. There’s no devil dwelling in Earth’s basement and there is no Jehovah seated on a throne overlooking a geocentric plane traveling upon a turtle’s back. These are the fragile beliefs that the scientific method shatters into irreparable pieces. But as a student of the behavioral sciences, I am aware that there are also more substantial beliefs that science hardly puts a dent in. While the fundamental question of science is how, that fundamental question of theology is why. Why am I here? Why was I born to die? Science has developed answers to how I got here and how I’m going to die, but it is no closer to answering why these things happen than religion and philosophy have come since the dawn of human thought. My impending retirement has brought into sharper focus these questions which have been with me for a lifetime. What has been the meaning of this life I lived until now? Has there been any purpose to my life? Such reflection is inevitable, I think, as one reviews years spent at many different occupations in an effort to fulfill a vocation. I’ve done some things well. There have been many things I could have done better. I’ve spent six decades on this planet and still find myself wondering why.