For writers, the inclination to wonder about the nature of things (aka the big picture) and to philosophise about them is compelling. This is especially as we get older and have built a store of experience to turn over, dissect and analyse.

Central to this reflection is the dilemma of our place in the universe, the nature of the existence of living things and whether these things actually matter.

The instinctive compulsion of living things to breed and reproduce and their tenacity to survive at all costs suggests there is some sort of power at work and that therein lies a reason for our existence.

In the narrower human sense, this can throw up many fascinating tangents.

If our compulsion to breed and sustain our species is all powerful, what does this say about such things as our habits and our relationships?

Let me offer an example. Logically, an inclination towards something like homosexuality doesn’t fit into such a scheme because it doesn’t result in the reproduction of the species.

In the same sense neither does celibacy among priests and shamans.

Both cases are antithetical.

On the other hand, practises like polygamy make sense because they maximise our breeding potential.  So does unfettered promiscuity among unmarried couples. 

Humans are herd animals, like many other social species, so why should we be different?  Doesn’t this also make the concept of romantic love sound silly?

All this is grist for the writer’s mill and it has been pondered for millennia.  However, it gets really interesting when you arrive at the inevitable question of why.  And does it really matter anyway?

This is where religion inevitably rears its head. The connection is unfortunately unavoidable.

Religion is a human construct designed to answer this baffling problem.  As far as I am aware dogs and cats, pigs and horses, butterflies and goldfish and garden kaukau subscribe to no form of religion.

Religion has many redeeming qualities but it also has a dark side.  Perhaps the most significant commonality of the various beliefs that subscribe to the theory of the existence of a supreme universal power is their wanton destructiveness.

Setting aside the question of the morals of a supreme being who allows such things as pain and suffering, it is indisputable that religion causes death and destruction on a massive scale and has done so since time immemorial.

The reason for this seems to be the preoccupation of its many and varied brands with power and control.  For religious adherents, power reigns supreme. We are the chosen ones and we brook no disagreement.

Putting it mildly this is not a good look.  For any thinking person the logical conclusion is that the world would be a much better place without religion.

Is that true?  Perhaps our territorial aspirations simply use religion as a convenient excuse to go to war with our neighbours to acquire land for our burgeoning populations?

And why are the rich and powerful and their aspirational followers allowed to ignore the central tenets of most religions to be humble, generous and caring and to love their neighbours as themselves. 

Instead, they are allowed to squeeze as much profit out of them no matter what pain and suffering they cause.

If you are a writer these questions should be among your constant pre-occupations.  They don’t need to be overt but they should inform what you write about.

There are lots of subtleties of course but, really, it can be all boiled down to one word – Why?

If you ask that question, even if you can’t answer it, you are a writer.

End of ramble.