So... what is the meaning of life?
Well... I have some problems with that question. For one, how about that word "the"? As in,
the meaning of life.
Are we to assume that there is
only one meaning? Why not two, three, four, or potentially none at all?
And more importantly, what sort of answer is this question looking for in the first place? If I were to ask: what is the meaning of
"gravity"? Someone might give me the definition or explain what it is, how it works, etc. But we seem to be in search of
a different type of answer here. We know already (to some extent) what life is and isn't. A person is alive, but not a rock.
So no, this isn't a question of biology. Of what is it, then?
It might help to formulate some similar questions. I mean... how often do we ask ourselves what the meaning is of music? Or love.
What is the meaning of falling asleep and of waking up? We don't hear those questions often. Why?
Are they nonsensical? Trivial? "That's just the way it is." I've been told. Is life something not to be questioned either?
Well, I disagree. In fact, I believe that all of these questions are just as interesting. It's unfortunate we're socialized to accept
that things just... are. "Go on about your day, don't question it" they say. But I won't and I can't. These are fundamental questions to our living and wellbeing.
If we don't make any attempt at understanding our own relationship to that which is around us, I say we can hardly justify being human at all.
The ultimate question plaguing not just the minds of philosophers for millennia, but sitting deep within each and every one
of us, is really about
purpose. Life, the universe, and everything. Why are we here? What are we to do? Is there some deeper truth yet to be uncovered
that will one day make it all make sense? It is deeply unsettling to not know. We like to pretend we know so much. Of science and technology and politics and war.
But looking within, there's a giant crater we hope so desperately to avoid facing, that is our understanding of our place in the universe. Floating through space on this giant rock.
It's as if every one of us was born on a giant in-progress interlocking jigsaw puzzle, but looking around there's only more pieces out in every direction.
We have no idea where it started or when it will end (if at all!). Why does life exist? What is its purpose?
Is there a purpose? Or am I just wandering around aimlessly...
Why does a cog exist in a machine? What is
its purpose? Surely it must be to serve the ends of that machine's goal you say.
Which then begs the question... what is the purpose of the machine? Maybe this machine is part of a larger system. And we could go on and on
asking about higher and higher purpose, but it has to end somewhere, right? Few of us ever think to look that far. At a glance, it seems for
anything
to have meaning implies the existence of a greater purpose than its own. But deep down we
know that's not true. We've felt meaning before! In family and in friendship,
in art and in science, in love and in music, and everywhere in between. Clearly there are such examples of meaning that is
intrinsic. By design.
Serving no greater purpose than that of its own. Unlike a cog in a machine, love is its own end. It needs no exterior justification for existence.
Love and music can bring us to the greatest of joys or the darkest depths of sadness. They are felt. Experienced.
Why then should the meaning of life be any different? Must life be a means to some greater end? Well, I say of course not! Let it be
the end unto itself! There is no greater purpose
to serve. But! It is
not without meaning. It is a delight. A
challenge. A journey. A grief. One which forever refuses to provide a justification for its own existence. Quite frankly, we
should be thankful it is this way, if not ecstatic about it! Needing a reason to exist is boring! We are not some cogs in a machine. Life is not a job.
We are here for the journey, not the destination.
(This is the basis of the wonderful philosophy of
Optimistic Nihilism)
I for one could not think of a more boring reality than a life with predetermined purpose. Where would the fun be in that?! Where is the excitement?!
What ultimately makes life worthwile
is the fact that we have nowhere to go. We are blessed with the ability to choose which direction
to take it. There is no greater gift.
To me, that is the
only thing that makes life worth living. Being thrown onto a rock in the vacuum of space. A giant blank canvas
for anything to be created. From the moment we are born, our story is left to be written and we are the ones who get to write it. You can choose to
try things. Figure out what you like. What you hate. Meet people. Help people. Be helped. Nothing is forced upon you.
We sit here and realize in all of our preoccupation with trying to find and chase a higher purpose, that we forgot to look within and missed the ball.
The fact that life has no meaning is precisely what gives it any meaning at all.
- Pedro Contipelli