Meaning
A random thought struck me over toast and vaguely unsatisfying coffee this morning — this whole “search for meaning” thing. You hear people voice worries about living a meaningless life. This often comes up in defense of religion — religion gives one’s life meaning. I once had a conversation with a very friendly and very earnest Evangelical who talked about his life “Before” — he said it like that, you could hear the capital letter, all ominous-like — and how meaningless it was. He did drugs, he had lots of sex, he partied. It was all “meaningingless.”
Which, of course, it wasn’t. What he engaged in was a simplistic version of hedonism, where pleasure is the meaning of life. In this case, he was choosing particular kinds of pleasure as being the “point” of existence. Whether those choices were good or bad is immaterial here — it was an attempt at “meaning.”
Mostly, this is reminding me of a general feeling I’ve had for a long time — that talk of “meaning” in life is one of those chimeras of human thought. We ask “what is the meaning of life?” and make the mistake of assuming that because we can ask the question, it is a valid question (I’m reminded of Dawkin’s example of such a question — why are unicorns hollow?). There’s a way, in fact, that it seems to be a rather dangerous question, in that it can fill up your head to no good end. I’ve seen people obsessing over the “meaning of life” to the point that they don’t, well, live. Heck, I’ve been that person at a few points in my life. Insert your favorite examples of melodramatic teenage/early twenties existential angst here.
The funny thing is that when you get right down to it, what most people mean by “meaning” in this context is simply joy. How to find the deep, lasting joys. One of the beauties of our lives is how much that answer seems to revolve around creating joy for others, or sharing it with others. Not to mention the variety — social, physical, intellectual, creative.
Of course, I also take issue with what some folk consider “meaningless” — but that will be another post.
Great post. There’s so much more meaning in my life since I left Christianity because every moment counts now, for now, not for some eternal counterpart. I was actually thinking about this very topic on the way to work this morning. About how people assume purpose, and intent and take it from there. I also used to use ‘Before’ lol. If I’d been honest ‘Before’ was such a horrendous time because I was an undiagnosed manic depressive and horribly lonely – mostly because I had so much angst over the ‘meaning’ of life in the first place.
I was thinking this morning how frustrated I am by injustice and passivity, but that I’m not in a constant state of anxiety or agitation about it – I actually feel such contentment and peace with my life. It’s not a race anymore.
And I’ve always been a deeply joyful person, it’s just less burdened now.
The only good answer to the “what is the meaning of life?” question that I ever heard was “the meaning of life is to make life meaningful.” Working against injustice and passivity sounds like an excellent way to do that.