"Meaningless, meaningless, all is meaningless ..."
... or in a different translation ...
"Vanity of vanities; all is vanity and a striving after wind ..."
... and remain optimistic?
The possibility of meaning in our moments and movements through the morose and moody maneuvers of a masochistic existence is sometimes our link with hope and sanity.
Solomon seems to have abandoned that hope for the bulk of the book that is attributed to his hand and his experience/
Anything can be meaningless if we are not connected with meaning.
That was the dilemma of Solomon as he reflected on his life journey.
Meaningless work is not satisfying work. The grief and pain bear no fruit.
That is not the end of the story, however. That is the heart-cry for meaning that every human shares. That is the kind of pain that nags us with the message that there must be more and can be more.
With all that, I sense a nudging to start working on a book of reflections: An Optimist Reads the Book of Ecclesiastes.
"All their days their work is grief and pain; even at night their minds do not rest. This too is meaningless. "
Not the end of the story!