I still can't find the meaning of life

This is my submission for the January 2026 IndieWeb Carnival on the topic of “The Meaning of Life”, hosted by Jeremiah Lee.

What is the meaning of life?

In school, I thought it was getting into a good university. After that, it was finding a good job. Then finding a good partner. Then having kids. Or maybe making lots of money and retiring early, or on time.

And then what? Meaningless again.

Even after retirement, to have meaning, we still need to find hobbies, exercise, volunteer to help others.

We’re like donkeys that need a carrot dangling in front of us. Without it, we lose the will to live and can’t move forward.

But is this really all there is to the meaning of life?

I’ve tried to find answers in all kinds of books.

Some books say “Imagine yourself on your deathbed. What would you be proud of? That’s the meaning of your life.” But what I’m proud of is just the values society has imposed on me. Setting aside that my values are constantly changing, would I really care about any of this when I’m on my last breath? The deathbed version of me I’m imagining now is just that: imagination.

Some books say “Live in the present.” But in the present, I just want to watch Netflix. And when one episode ends, I immediately want to know what happens next, so I watch another. But then the books also say “Don’t just consume, slack off, and seek pleasure.”

Some books say “Just believe in God, and let the almighty handle everything.” Having faith makes many problems, including this so-called meaning of life, easy to resolve. But faith is believing without seeing. I just don’t believe. What can I do about that?

Some books say “Put down your phone. Create, share, help others, leave something behind.” But who says creating is inherently better than consuming? There are already 150 million books in the world. Does the ocean need my drop of water?

I even tried magic truffles. (Also recommended by a book.)

In that altered state, I kept asking myself “What is the meaning of life?” “What is the meaning of life?” “What is the meaning of life?” As if the answer would just appear and dissolve all my past, present, and future attachments, letting me live happily ever after.

What I got back was, of course, a blank.

So I gave up and contentedly ate the most delicious chips in the world while listening to the best music.

I still don’t know what the meaning of life is.

Even if someone else has found it, that’s theirs, not mine.

Maybe the meaning of life is to stop obsessing over the meaning of life. Maybe by watching Netflix sometimes and creating sometimes, enlightenment will come along the way. Or maybe I’ll still be clueless on my deathbed, filled with regret.

But who can truly say that a clueless life is a meaningless one?