I don’t think I’ve found meaning in my life.
I’ve done a lot of thinking in the last year on this subject.
I’ve explored the supernatural, religion, and purpose.
I’ve been raised in a Hindu household, but my quest to analyze life through logic, reason, and rationality has lowered my confidence in any religion.
That was my belief a few years ago. I’ve re-evaluated my belief as I’ve experienced more life.
Now, I’m starting to think the human mind needs some transcendental answer to assign to this question.
When I came to terms with the ephemeral nature of life, the temporariness, and possibly uselessness, I entered an extremely bad place.
How can one choose to continue to live life, knowing it’s useless. Action: Perhaps, I should speak with some atheists to better understand their perspective.
I frequently visit that place.
I don’t enjoy my fight with nihilism. Sometimes, I think it would be easier to prescribe to a religion and derive meaning that way.
The meaning of life sits up there as one of the big questions that our species faces.
Our ancestors, their ancestors, and their ancestors, all had the same existential questions as us.
It’s why religion exists.
Maybe our ancestors have simply figured out that without some out-of-body explanation for life, humans converge to insanity.
Humans are incapable of gripping with the realization that their presence is void––so we tell stories to one another, place strong belief in them, and have them serve as the foundation for life.
Sometimes I wish I didn’t deconstruct life logically––I wish I didn’t need it to make sense.
But, I do.
As I write, I think I’ve had an epiphany.
Maybe the meaning of life is to find the meaning of life.
Maybe my meaning of life is the quest to explore this question.
Right now, I’m certain there is no meaning. But, I can entertain the idea that beliefs change with experience.
Maybe life is the exploration of this concept.
Maybe life is the faith that one day things will make sense.