Asking "what is the meaning of life" is asking the wrong question. Life means what, living? And what does living mean? It’s just what we do - the choices we make every step of every day. Do they have any meaning? Do we take them to make broad statements about who we are and what we value? Or do we take them to get from here to there?
Maybe you’re supposed to just be. And enjoy life - as long as you were a nice person, a good person. A person whose existence held us all together (a human together) and pulled us all farther (a human farther), imperceptibly erasing the lines that separate us. And it doesn’t matter if you do or leave anything.
But maybe there’s more. Maybe you’re supposed to leave something, some legacy. I believe that. To me, that’s what life means, more than anything else. The meaning of life - what makes us up, what keeps us going, what pushes us higher, what fills our dreams - is an impulse to leave something behind.
Why you live is what you do that lasts.
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