Specifically, what are you up to?

I'm asking you this question: why do we do what we do.

Also known as: why do you do what you do.

And because it is easy to shake this off into the effluvia of nostalgic meandering:

Why are you doing whatever it is you're doing right now?

I remain convinced that we don't have a very good reason or very good reasons.  That is, we don't have terribly specific reasons.  Or, if we have specific reasons, our ability to control those reasons goes down (by their nature, they are external).

That's fine.  Right?  I mean, why have a reason for every moment?  At times you have to go into all that is, oh holy reality, without knowing why.   So we've got imperfect information.  Anyone can admit that.  Still, given the imperfect information, we act, and we act based on?  It isn't always the specific reason/s we're telling ourselves (or each other).  That's my point for this moment of the morning.  And my point helps me tell myself that my reasons for action matter.  But maybe they're largely irrelevant, even to me?

A question worth pursuing with as little emotional attachment as possible. If possible.