The absurd: Searching for Meaning in a Meaningless Universe

We spend an enormous part of our lives trying to find meaning. We want to know why we are here and what are we supposed to accomplish and whether our lives matter and whether everything we experience jas some larger purpose behind it.

We build careers and fall in love and raise families and create art, music and chase money and pursue recognition and leave behind thing that we hope that will outline us.

But..what if the universe doens't care?

Not it a cruel way. Not because it is against us. Simply because it have no reason to care about us.

The universe existed long before anyone has arrived and unless humanity somehow survives for an imaginably long time, it will continue to exist even after every person who will even live is gone. Starts will explode. Planets will disappear. Civilizations will raise and collapse.

And none of it will require our approval. This is where the idea of The Absurd becomes uncomfortable. Human beings desperately wants meaning and order and explanation while the universe iffyer no obvious answers.

We ask What is the purpose of life and the universe remains silent.

We may spend decades working towards something only to die before seeing it's full consequences. Seimine may become incredibly wealthy and still be empty inside. Someone may dedicate their life to helping others and still experience terrible suffering all alone. There is no universal scoreboard to announce who lived correctly and perfectly.

That can sound horrifying. But perhaps the absence of pre determined meaning does not automatically make life meaningless.

If meaning is not waiting somewhere in the universe for us to discover then perhaps we can create it ourself.

A friendshop can matter because we decide that the person matters. A career can matter because that work means something to us. A song can matter to us because they may eventually disappear from our memories. A life can matter without being constantly important.

But there is another uncomfortable possibility. If we are the ones creating meaning then the meaning mayb be fragile. The things we consider important are important nevismr conscious beings experience them as important. Removes tha person and the meaning disappear with them.

That does not make love fake.

It makes love temporary. And perhaps that is the real confrontation with the absurd.

We want our lives to have some permenent significance written into the fabric of reality. Instead we may simply be clueless and trying to make sense of our temporary existence.