There comes a moment when many of us ask ourselves:
What is the meaning of life?
For a long time, I thought I already knew.
I had lived enough, seen enough, loved, lost, and survived enough to believe I understood what mattered. I thought meaning came from building something solid, from love, from success, from being seen in a way that proved I had been here… and that my life counted for something.
Those things mattered to me. Many still do. But I have begun to question how much of my search for meaning was also a search for reassurance that I had done enough, produced enough, become enough.
One day, something very ordinary made me pause.
I was sitting with a cup of coffee in my hand, looking out at a view I had traveled a long way to see. And yet, my mind was already somewhere else.
I could not remember taking the first sip.
It sounds small, meaningless. But something about that moment shook me.
Here I was, with time to sit and something beautiful in front of me, and I was barely noticing it. How often did I do that? Look forward to an experience, arrive, and begin thinking about something else?
My mind could always find something to work on: what was next, what was missing, what needed fixing, what should have been different. Even when I was sitting still, I could be so occupied with my thoughts that I barely noticed what was happening around me.
Meanwhile, life was quietly happening. Right here. Right now.
And I realized that so often, I was not present enough to receive it.
That day, a new question emerged.
Alongside “What is the meaning of life?” I began asking, “Am I here for my life?”
I still cared about what my life meant. But what about the life I was actually experiencing, right now, right here?
I was asking what my life meant while barely paying attention to the life in front of me. That was a revelation.
How much could I understand about my life if I was always mentally moving ahead to whatever came next?
I do not believe that being present answers every question about meaning. We need connection, and many of us want to contribute, create, or care for something beyond ourselves. I know I do. But I am learning that meaning also grows through the attention and care we bring to what is already here.
For me, being present has become a key to what makes life meaningful. It is how I come to know what I feel and what matters to me, who I am, and who I want to become.
Sometimes being present is simply listening. Sometimes it means speaking honestly, making a change, or acknowledging something I would rather avoid.
I can say that love gives my life meaning, but am I listening to the person I love? I can say that I want to grow, but am I willing to notice my own behavior when it is uncomfortable to see? What I believe matters becomes part of my life through how I live and how I treat others.
That morning, it was a cup of coffee and a beautiful view. But presence matters to me just as much when there is nothing beautiful to look at, when a conversation is difficult, or when I am not sure what to do next. I want to notice what is happening within me, too, instead of immediately reaching for something that will take my mind away from it.
I do not always manage that. Sometimes I need a distraction or a little distance before I can face something. But I want to recognize when I am ready to return, because what I feel and how I respond are part of my life too.
I am learning that I do not have to wait for everything to make sense before I can live meaningfully.
Meaning is created moment by moment, through awareness, through attention, and through the way we meet ordinary life. Through choice. Presence gives me a chance to make that choice with my eyes open.
I think we sometimes ask so much of life before we allow ourselves to appreciate and participate fully in it. We want it to make sense. We want to know where it is going. We want reassurance that our choices will have been worth it. I understand that longing. I have it too.
I still ask myself what the meaning of life is. But I find myself returning to a more personal question:
What does being here for my life ask of me today?
Because sometimes, nothing is missing at all. We are simply somewhere else while our life is happening.
And sometimes something really is missing, or hurting, or asking to change. I want to be present enough to recognize that, too. I want to know the life I am living, including the parts I have yet to understand. It is the only life I can actually respond to, care for, and choose what to do with.
Insight:
Pause for a moment and ask yourself:
Are you fully living your life… or mostly planning and thinking about it while it quietly passes by?
What is happening around you and within you that needs your attention right now?
Pause. Choose. Live.
Reflection from my journey — Marlborough Sound, New Zealand. Photograph © Amira Mor.
