What is the meaning of life?

Not what gives us meaning but what is the point of it all?

To even attempt to address the question of the meaning of life, I want to start by saying a few things. I’m 20 years old, so my life experience is limited. I haven’t studied philosophy or theology in any formal or academic setting, and I haven’t gone to university. This is simply me piecing together what I’ve learned so far.

First, I think there are two key questions: What is the meaning of life for individuals? And what is the true meaning of life? For many people, meaning in their lives revolves around protecting and providing for their family, making the world a better place, passing down teachings or wealth to their children, being remembered for their kindness, changing public discourse, etc. While all these things add immense meaning to people’s lives, do they really address the bigger question: What’s the point of it all?

People often say the purpose of life is to "have fun," "have children," or "put more good into the world than bad," etc. But the question surely arises: if we create our own meaning, is that really meaning? If we know we have to do things to make meaning, isn’t that more like taking a drug to numb ourselves than meaning? If we manufacture meaning in our lives, one could argue that the act of finding meaning itself becomes our purpose, creating ideas in our minds that we convince ourselves to believe are meaningful.

Furthermore, this explains why, when someone lacks direction or purpose, life can feel unbearably empty—we can’t help but wonder: is this it? We find ourselves in a space devoid of self-made meaning, and it can feel truly horrific. In a way, when we’re not numbed by self-constructed purpose, the experience is almost unbearable. So, could it be that the most excruciating feeling is where meaning truly lies? Is that what life is really about before we add are bullshit to it? When we have no distractions but a bitter existence?

This leads us to question whether meaning is something we create ourselves. If so, it almost feels like we’re fooling ourselves into living well. It’s like watching a magic trick in awe, only to grow older and realise how it’s done—we come to understand that we’re creating the illusion rather than uncovering something singular and true. Like wearing a lens we see life that obscures the massive, gaping “WHY.”

When we talk about meaning, we need to understand the "why." When people strive for meaning, what people ultimately search for is a purpose that can sustain them through suffering and last over time, whatever that purpose may be. That’s why, when someone says they just "want to be happy," it’s not a strong foundation for a meaningful life. Happiness is a fleeting, temporary emotion; so, what happens when you’re not happy? Moreover, happiness is just the opposite of sadness, so how can you sustain yourself when sadness is all you know? If happiness is like light and sadness is like darkness, then when all you see is light, is it even light anymore, or just the only way you can see?

The perspective often changes as people age of meaning. That’s why young people often indulge in hedonistic pleasures (myself included) — because their worldview is focused on the short term, whether that means money, power, sex, ego, vanity, etc. However, as people grow older, their search for a sustaining meaning deepens; furthermore, that’s why I think adults who still indulge in such ways of life are often viewed as ‘immature’ or lost.

For example, a married man may feel tempted to leave his wife to seek another mate, motivated by ego, short-term pleasure, or the belief that something better awaits him. But a man who seeks real meaning will recognise that his desire is a fleeting impulse, not something that can sustain him through suffering. He learns to transcend these human impulses, knowing from experience that such indulgence won’t bring lasting happiness or satisfaction. And all I say here comes from a place of individualistic selfishness, which we humans excel at, let alone a matter of love.

That’s why people who build movements, change public discourse, or achieve self-made success are often admired. They transcend their human impulses for comfort or pleasure and pursue something greater, not because it’s easy, but because they believe it to be good, or something worth suffering/sacrificing in some way for.

So, why do people act recklessly — whether in pursuit of sex, material wealth, or power — if it doesn’t make them happy? I believe it’s because we’re all starving for meaning and purpose. Even with that meaning being simply "feeling good," we delude ourselves into thinking that’s all life has to offer, as if "that’s as good as it gets." It’s a thirst that can never be quenched. It’s the search for meaning that sustains people; even if the meaning they find is in fleeting pleasures, it’s surely better than nothing at all?

As C.S. Lewis said, "Our desires are not too strong, but too weak." Like ignorant children, we fail to see the true rewards available to us. Deep down, we know what would be good for us, but we get distracted by our short-term desires, too weak to resist them.

It’s like being a kid waiting for your birthday, convinced that the presents you get will make you happy or bring lasting relief from life’s pains. But once your birthday passes, you realise you want something else — maybe something bigger? Maybe something different? To keep the abyss of life at bay.

In some ways, life is meaningless (in a separate sense from God). We chase after wealth, relationships, power, or recognition, but once we achieve them, we’re struck by the realisation of the endless cycle that we return to, as much as we try to resist or cover it up; like the rising sun, it will always come back, we can’t stop it.

What I’ve learned so far is that the struggle itself — the act of striving — is often where the most meaning lies, as cliché and boring as it sounds. It’s when we face our true selves, confronting emotions so raw that we can’t put up the usual masks or distractions, but instead face it — or at least try to.

Buddha is a great example of this. He had everything a man could desire, yet he felt unfulfilled. His wants and desires — the things that ‘should make someone happy’ — were satisfied, but he still didn’t feel truly alive. So, he gave it all up, and only then did he find true meaning in the raw simplicity of life without material wealth.

Take, for example, a political activist fighting for a cause. Their day-to-day life is about fighting for justice, and, in a way, that becomes their identity. If that issue were resolved, they would lose a significant part of their purpose. There’s a paradox in our desires — we want certain things, but achieving them often leaves us feeling empty.

In my own life, no matter how angry I get about a particular issue or how much I want to create change, I feel blessed by God that I have the opportunity to find meaning and purpose in these pursuits. It’s something to be grateful for, as without such distractions, we would struggle immensely, forced to face the truth of life you could say.

And many of those truths, I believe, are so difficult and immense to face that many can’t bear them. So we keep walking with our wants and desires, plucking truths where we can but remembering to keep enough cushions around us to dodge the stark reality of it all.

That’s why real monks and spiritual leaders are so impressive. They strip away life’s distractions, the fluff, and the pretense, coming face-to-face with the rawness of existence. If life’s meaning were the earth, they are, in many ways, closest to its core. And while that core may be dangerous and uncomfortable and hot, it’s the heart of it all — and I, for one and many cannot handle that core.

And what is that core?

To be honest, I’m not quite sure. That’s what I’m trying to figure out…

(Just to add, these are the ramblings in my head that I often have, and I have not studied or read about almost all the stuff I speak about here. Also, to add, I approached this from a very secular view, not including the entity of God, which is vital to addressing the question of existence. However, I thought that by considering it from a less faith-based perspective, it opens the door to doubts about our existence and the question: what the hell is the point of any of it?)