The Long Lost Duckman and The Meaning of Life

Who remembers that cartoon on USA Network with a very cranky duck detective as its lead character? The one and only Duckman (voiced by Jason Alexander). It ran from 1994 to 1997 at 10 p.m. Eastern Time, and I used to watch it religiously. Why I was so into it, I can’t really tell you, but at the time, I found it quite fascinating. And of all the innumerable episodes of Duckman that I watched, there is only one that I still remember to this day. And within that one episode, there is only one moment that remains with me presently: Duckman’s meeting with God…

There’s a question we all carry with us unconsciously, moment to moment, and which we sometimes bring to consciousness: What is the meaning of life?? 

For most of us, it’s rare to speak about it at all, and for many of us, rare to even think about it, but it’s lodged in us…deeply. 

A common reason we don’t think or speak about it is because we’re too busy and there are many “more pressing” or “more practical” considerations. Another is that we think it’s unanswerable. Yet a third is that we think it’s obvious: Life is what you make of it.

Duckman played on our unconscious obsession with what it all means in a way I think typifies the importance of the question. It presented an almost climactic recognition of how that very question necessarily underpins everything we do by the illustration of Duckman’s death and subsequent encounter with God.

Of course, a TV show in that time-slot about a wild duck with a George Costanza alter-ego could only mean God is portrayed facetiously, at best - a booming voice amidst billowing clouds who asks Duckman to step into the light, then step out of the light, put his left foot in, take his left foot out, and shake it all about… 

He tells Duckman he wants to give him something to take back to his life on Earth, which he left for heaven prematurely (by a celestial mistake in the records). Duckman interjects to ask for the Super Bowl results ahead of time or a photo of him with some dead celebrities. Clasping his hands together as if in prayer, he anxiously awaits God’s response. God then gives him...an Etch-a-Sketch. 

Duckman is mildly disappointed trying to figure out what to do with it, moving it around as if to examine how it works. On that Etch-a-Sketch, was written what God says is “the ultimate answer to the ultimate question - the meaning of life.” When Duckman looks at the screen, true to Etch-a-Sketch functioning, he sees his motions have erased the content. That’s it. No more meaning of life for Duckman. 

And whether we know it or not, that’s more or less where most of us find ourselves. For those of us who do think we know the meaning of life and it’s just obvious, i.e., the ‘life’s what you make of it’ adage, that approach really lets us off the hook from too much concrete motivation to live meaningfully. In other words, it’s too nebulous to be a guiding force toward experiencing deep and lasting meaning. We may then say, wait, there’s another adage to the adage - it’s all about love. Yet, aren’t we still pretty good at keeping that loose, vague, and if we’re really honest, often peripheral to our day-to-day?

From my vantage point, both of these ideas are actually on target - life is indeed what you make of it, and love we know rightly to be at the heart of that. However, the question remains, how do we make such a central premise central to how we live? And is there not something more to it than these simple cliches which can work well for a certain Hallmark niceness but which quickly become hackneyed and dry?

I honestly like the dramatic flair and marked mystery that Duckman shrouds this question in, i.e., the buildup to Duckman’s death, an encounter with God, God’s ultimate gift, and it all being for naught because of the torment of losing the answer to that ultimate question that matters more than any other… I find the depiction so fitting for the place this question actually holds in our hearts and minds. And I think our ways of typically dealing with this question, by either ignoring it or giving pat answers are ultimately insufficient. They fail to do justice to the utter “ultimateness” of the issue, as Duckman’s God would put it. They let us live practical lives, numb to its extraordinary import.

So what are we left with? Only the chance to explore meaning further. It’s something which has occupied us since time immemorial. Philosophers and religionists have been trying to resolve this along with physicists, evolutionists, psychologists, and artists. The 1960s saw a revolution stemming from lack of meaning, where an entire generation ducked out of their habitual lives to become known as hippies. And in the new millennium, the concern for meaning has entered into the mainstream with a vengeance, even into the workplace! 

Now, studies show that meaning is what most people, especially millennials, are seeking, above other considerations in a career. Meaningful work provides the greatest satisfaction and can spare a company exceptional cost in disengagement and turnover. But what makes something meaningful? Is it only what we make of it? Is there love to be found in the workplace? How do we make this concept of meaning tangible so that it’s actually meaningful?

I was discussing exactly this point with a coaching client in Washington Square Park some time back. I could feel his surprise that we arrived at such a fulcrum of existence in the context of our work. And yet, he also knew that that’s what we’re together seeking. 

When I shared my understanding that there is indeed a meaning - a specific meaning - that we can make of our lives, he was all the more intrigued. I expressed my conclusions, which inspired me to write this piece.

Specific universal meaning to life often makes us dubious. We tend to associate some kind of glory with questions being more important than answers and even questions not having answers that we can know. But I believe we cheat ourselves by asking questions we don’t ever intend to answer or that get answered without thought and implementation.

Living as a monk, I studied the wisdom of the world’s traditions for many years in as much depth as I could. And I made it a point that it’s not to sit in my head. It must be lived for it to be meaningful. What I found was that there is one commonality that resonates most deeply amongst all of the wise. To live a meaningful life means we cannot be at the center. It means we must not live the life of the ego. We must be called to something larger than ourselves rather than enlarging ourselves and pretending our finite little existence - soon to be forgotten - is so meaningful. 

Paradoxically, our lives become meaningful to the degree we don’t think ourselves more meaningful than anyone else. When we break out of the ego and step into the life of service, we contact a meaning beyond anything previously experienced. This is the ultimate gateway.

The meaning of life as I understand it and endeavor to live it is simply pure service. What you can give, not what you can get. Nor what you’ll be remembered for giving. It’s what you can give free of strings, free of attachments, free of ego. What you can give from your heart. From your real, deepest self. Independent of outcome and temporary happenings. That’s a region of transcendence we usually shy away from. And that is where the ultimate meaning lies.

I had an experience that really encapsulated this for me and instantly changed my outlook on the day in a very powerful way. I was heading to the monastery to do my regular service of making flower garlands, but it was the end of an exhausting workweek on a day that ran extremely late, yet again, and would necessarily mean I was up ridiculously late, nodding off while doing the service I love, and in anxiety about preparing for and teaching our weekly Bhagavad-Gita class first thing the next day. To add insult to injury, there were no flowers in the cooler where they are kept for the garland-makers, so I’d have to venture out into the cold and take more time to purchase five bouquets. 

As I was en route to make my reluctant purchase, I found myself in a very strange setting. I was taking one of my treasured shortcuts to get from one block to the next via an apartment complex and park, when suddenly, I saw the gates closing behind me. I thought, ‘Good, I’m just in time!’ As I proceeded to the exit, I found I was too late after all. Locked. So I quickly backtracked, grumbling internally. I got to the entrance gate that was shut behind me only to find it too was locked. I nearly panicked.

My heart was racing as I pushed with all my might. I managed to create a slender opening and barely squeeze through. Relief. Until I noticed there was a second person in the same boat. We were the only people in sight. 

A homeless person, so bundled up I couldn’t tell the gender, tried to get through the gap in the locked up gate. It was no use. I witnessed the scene, trying to keep it to the corner of my eye, so that I could keep it in the back of my mind and not really notice, for I was well on my way. There was a part of me that thought, ‘I have to run because I don’t have any more time and I need to be clean to do this service in the sacred temple.’ I nevertheless turned around, unable to take that shamefully compelling voice of avoidance more seriously than my conscience. I thus stared into the eyes of the human being trapped on the other side. There was no call for help, no communication. Just an understanding that came over me when I gave up my provincial consciousness to allow for the existence of another. This is my opportunity to help. Not my burden. Not even my obligation.

I lifted a bag he or she was trying to fit through the opening and carried it over to my side. Then I pushed the gate the furthest I could muster until my companion at last made it to me.

“God bless you!” was the first thing the person said. It was also not obligatory. Not a “thanks” - “you’re welcome” exchange. It nearly brought me to tears. To overcome my own baggage and appeal to another, and to feel the depth of connection in the words of a total stranger - a stranger that I shamefully would want nothing to do with, and certainly no repeat or deep connection - compounded by the purity of the exchange...it all just bowled me over. As I was about to return to my own state of affairs, this struggling soul spoke.

“You want some socks? It’s cold!”

It was true. It was cold and I was stupidly not wearing socks. I was awestruck that the person looked down at my feet, in the dark, and in the present struggle, not to mention overarching struggle of life. I almost couldn’t find words to respond. I just thanked him or her for caring and being so good. I assured that I would be all right. In response to their still wanting to make sure I couldn’t use socks, I shared that it would be a short time outside and I wouldn’t be too cold. This person was so giving...

I don’t remember exactly the words that came next as we parted ways, I only remember that he or she expressed love for me. And well-wishings for my life. Even as I write this, I feel unworthy and emotional reliving it. I’m a privileged, sheltered kid. All I did was my duty as a fellow human being, and I almost did it begrudgingly or not at all. I wish I could have done so much more than just letting the person through the gate. 

I was simultaneously humiliated and elated. It was such a moving experience that the rest of the night I thought far less about my own woes even though they were causing me real stress and exhaustion. I continued to think about my unlikely friend on the other side of the gate and the heart-to-heart connection based on service. It filled me up and lent spirit to my garlanding. 

Getting outside the grip of the ego is not easy. It never is. But it is more rewarding than anything else in life. This I say with full conviction. As a leader in end-of-life care, Frank Ostaseski, says in his Wisdom 2.0 talk, Inviting the Wisdom of Death into Life: “At the end of life, there are only two things that matter to people - am I loved and did I love well?” 

That means love that flows without the dams of ego which block us from ourselves and each other. It’s not limited, and certainly not to mere family or friends. It encompasses the world and all living beings. It takes over us in a way that is humbling rather than pride-instilling. It’s an accomplishment that doesn’t feel achievement-oriented or worthy of a pat on the back at all. It can be lived at home and at work. There is no cap on it and it need not always be expressed in words. It’s this spirit which makes us lovable to our friends, family, team, and everyone we meet. It makes us trustworthy and enlivened to be our best and offer that for the benefit of this world. Are we prepared to live such a meaningful life?

Start by evaluating each day at it’s close: How many times can I count my ego clearly coming in my own way or the way of another? How many times did I break free and offer pure service to another without expectation or self-congratulation? The more we see our ego, the more we need not be run by it. And the more we offer pure service, the more we shed ego identity to become our real self. It changes our days and builds up increasing momentum for the most meaningful life.