Hevel. It’s a word with multiple meanings that describes life so perfectly that I can dwell on it for hours. In English it means vapor or breath or smoke. It is also translated as meaningless or vanity. It’s an abstract concept, but the author of Ecclesiastes is trying to say that everything, absolutely everything, is like smoke or a cloud. It appears solid, but when touched, your hand slips right through it. It seems real, but it is really just an illusion. All we do, the reasons we do it, and life itself is as meaningless, temporary, and fleeting as a puff of smoke.