What’s the meaning of it all? To have fun? This might be the first thing that comes to mind. But maybe it’s not the answer.
Recently I’ve finished reading Kafka on the shore by Haruki Murakami. I wouldn’t say it’s a masterpiece, but the ending was worth it. It’s a simple book with a simple-not-simple plot, where the main character in the end asks: What is the meaning of life? The answer given in the book is really strange at the first glance but makes sense after some time:
Look at the painting and listen to the wind.
There is no meaning in life. There is no magic solution or answer. It’s just you and other people try and navigate in the fog. Is it bad? Absolutely not.
If there is no meaning in life, you are free. Freedom. Think about it for a second. It’s in the wind, in thousands of little details in your daily life, millions of decisions. Freedom is in love.
Fulfilling life. Slow life. Aware life.
Actual life may be boring sometimes. But for me it means making my plot as interesting as possible. It’s saying yes more often and doing what scares me.
Not that I’m fearless or anything.
But I will live my life. My actual life. And nothing can stop you from doing the same.