Questions like the meaning of life, the after-death, the existence of God, the inner "you", the spiritual "you", that exists in all of us and we cultivate throughout life.
What do you tend to do? Ignore those questions? Think them through? Talk about it with someone else and get others insight? Maybe read about it? Or even write?
Most Helpful Guy
Well, I love to read about philosophy and I've read quite a lot of Satre and also some Camus. Although Satre and Camus disagreed in some points, they both developed similar answers to these questions that I very much agree with. In short: there is no reason for our existence but it doesn't matter because this gives us the room and opportunity to make sense of it ourselves. Also - and this is one of my strongest opinions in this regard - their is beauty in our insignificance and lack of purpose.
One of the things I find most annoying about religions is that they try to tell humans how incredibly important we are. That we're the crown of all creation and that we're so important that an all powerful god takes his time to listen to every single prayer every single day. LUCKILY, this is not true. We're not important. The universe doesn't give a shit about us. But that's not sad, it beautiful. Humility is something great and many people are not capable of feeling it. The understanding that we're all just part of nature means that we're a part of something much larger. We're only a tiny, tiny part of it but we're a part of it. We don't stand above it like christianity or islam wants to tell us, but right in the middle of it. When you take a walk through the forest on a spring afternoon and you see a pretty tree, you can think to yourself "in a way, I'm also a tree". Or a rock. Or a squirrel that scurries through the undergrowth. Or a deer, or a caterpillar or the soil you walk on. It's all there without a deeper reason or purpose but it's beautiful the way it is. Thinking about this makes me calm and happy. Another example would be the topic of death. Religious people just can't handle the idea of death because they think they're so incredibly important that it has to continue somehow... they feel insulted by the idea of dying like a rich person feels insulted when he/she gets thrown out of the VIP lounge. But the truth is that our death doesn't mean much. Sure, our friends and family members will be sad but eventually, we will all be forgotten and even the forgetting will be forgotten. All that will be left is the big circle of life, which we are all a part of. I give my life its own purpose and, at the same time, gladly accept that I'm not important, that I'm small and insignificant and that "the world doesn't owe us anything" as Mark Twain put it. I find this to be much more comforting than the idea of having been created for some special purpose.1
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