How do you create meaning for your life?

anonymous asked:

hi. I've been having a lot of trouble finding meaning for my life lately. assuming we live in an inherently meaningless and arbitrary universe, how do you (specifically you, a concrete example of real, living person) create meaning for your life? how can humans reconcile the knowledge that the universe is arbitrary with the human need to find meaning in life? how do you bring yourself to care about anything when every human action is essentially pointless in the big picture?

The universe, in the broadest perspective, does indeed appear arbitrary, indifferent, and meaningless. If we zoom in a little closer, though, the frame of reference shifts. We–you and me, concrete examples of real persons–are, after all, part of the universe. So when we create meaning for ourselves, when we feel elation at hard-earned accomplishments, when we feel the pangs and pains and joys of love and connection, when we feel allied to our brothers and sisters and nature at large, when we feel and express purpose, it is the universe itself expressing purpose. And I don’t mean that in some New Age-y, mystical sense; I simply mean that our very beings are real-deal examples of fragments of the universe experiencing meaning. That’s as real as it gets. 

We are raised with this notion–perhaps it’s even innate to human psychology–that we need external validation for meaning; that God or something God-like must sign, seal, and deliver meaning to each of us, or else it’s fabricated and fake and we’re kidding ourselves to think otherwise. I call bullshit. We are our own gods. We are the authors of our own meaning, insofar as we have the privilege and capacity to actualize it. Though random and meaningless, the universe still managed, as Ray Bradbury wrote, to shout itself to life. We are one of the shouts. That is real, as real as it gets, as real as it needs to be. 

So, for me personally, I create and experience my own meaning. I strive to cultivate gratitude that this random cosmic void has happened to bestow upon me a slice of space-time to bask in and make my own. I care because this is all we got. I didn’t choose to be thrown into existence, but here I am. And I’m going to make the most of it. And cross my fingers that I have made and will continue to make the world, in whatever tiny, insignificant, fleeting ways I can–perhaps by extending a helping hand to a stranger in need, or providing a shoulder to cry on, or saving the life of a wounded critter, or bringing smiles to the faces of loved ones–a better place. That is meaningful to me. Sure, my time here is finite, and because the universe at large is indifferent, I am inevitably facing (and have faced) much cruelty and suffering. But there’s also so much good out there, so much purpose to derive. For that, I am privileged and thankful–even if it will ultimately come to an end. It’s still real, profoundly, palpably, intensely real, while I’m here.