What Is Love, Anyway?

Or happiness? What is healing? What is contentment? The Buddha said that old age and death are the raging brush fires just over the horizon that, from our birth, get closer and closer everfaster as each year passes-- fires that will certainly consume us all. That may sound depressing but I find it refreshingly honest from amongst the myriad religious pamphletography. Death is coming. What do we do with this life? What did you do? What are you going to do? Do you even think about the fact that one day, soon, you will draw your last breath and think, "Oh fuck! I'm dying!"?
At that moment, the vast majority of us will think, "What a waste! What a shame! If only I had it over to do again!"
But you don't, schmuck.
I've had flashes. Brief moments where I felt right with the world and with myself. In those fleeting moments I felt inspired to help anyone and everyone. I felt complete. I felt a sense of purpose. But that feeling passed, as it does, and I await the distant fires this side of the horizon, again.