Nothing brings out my philosophical mind quite like the times when I am searching for a reason to live. My depression drags me down to a depth barely survivable, and there I hunt for answers. I search not out of curiosity, but a need that does not exist at other times. It was during one of these moments when I finally came to a conclusion. As far as I could tell there were two possible solutions to the meaning of life.
The first being the less favored one, but still, holds validity- there is no meaning to life. We simply exist. You can call it a statistical probability. You can call it luck. You can call it what you want, but humans are the ones that search for meaning, and we are the ones who give meaning to things. So the reason for why we exist, well, we just do. I am more inclined to lean toward my second conclusion simply because it feels more meaningful (pun intended).
The meaning of life is to live. It is hardwired into us and all of nature. We find a random weed sticking through a crack in the sidewalk. We see when an animal feels threatened, they act (even deer in headlights- who act by not moving). Obviously, some survival instincts work better than others. Although, there are so many deer around, but I digress. Our hearts hate us when we have to go to a job we hate or do the multitude of menial tasks that make up our day. We were meant to live our lives, not bring home money to help support the multitude of menial tasks.
Philosophy is about seeking the truth. If that is the case, and I propose that this is in fact truth, then shouldn’t it be universal? My answer is both yes and no. Let me ask you why there is only one meaning? It seems limiting only to have one truth. I cannot define your reasons, just as you cannot define mine. I write out of necessity and because I love it. It excites me. It calls to me at all waking hours and occasionally delights me while I sleep. I could say that it is my purpose and meaning in life to write. If we believe that there are multiple meanings to life, then some may be universal and others may be particular.
Perhaps the age old question seeking the meaning of life is where the problem lies, and not the answer. Maybe the meaning of life is made up by multiple meanings, and the fact that we seek one all-purpose meaning has been our shortcoming in finding the answer.