The Meaning in Living

 “Death is what makes life meaningful.” 

I have been thinking a lot about this quote in recent days, and I think I believed it to be true at one point. We know we’re all stumbling towards an inevitable death, so that’s what makes us want to live. It’s what provides meaning to our monotonous days. 

I’m not so sure this is true anymore, or rather I’m not sure I believe it. 

I find it, in a sense, quite egotistical to say death is the only thing that provides our life with any meaning. It suggests we only know how to appreciate things once they’re gone, and I’ve decided this isn’t true. 

What makes life meaningful is the fact that we get to live it. The fact that I am sitting here, in the comfort of my home, writing a blog for people to read is meaningful. Getting up everyday and smelling freshly cut grass is meaningful. Even just sitting in the silence is meaningful. 

I’ve found that many people are thinking of death often—what happens when we die, what is the afterlife like, does Heaven exist at all? And as much as I dislike it, I find myself thinking of death quite frequently, too. 

I’m not thinking of it because I want it to come sooner, or I wish to leave planet Earth, but because I wonder what comes next. Where will I go when my soul leaves this Earth? Will it make the life I lived more meaningful? 

You can argue for both sides, but my answer—plain and simple—is no. Death is not what provides the overall meaning and purpose for the life we live. It is not the destination we are striving toward.

We’re here to love and to laugh and to spend time with people that feel like a cool summer wind. 

Death is just another thing that happens in your life. It’s an event, not the explanation. We all have a life to live, it’s imperative we live it. 

“Death is inevitable, but if we spend our lives thinking of death, we miss the beauty life has to offer.” 

These are the words my best friend said to me. And she’s correct. 

People often believe that because what we are all moving towards is our end, that is why we do what we do. We know we only have so much time to read a good book or ask that person how their day was or admire the flowers growing through the cracks on the sidewalks, so we think these things only have value and purpose because of the way it ends. 

This is untrue. Things have value simply because they exist. Even your favourite doll collecting dust on the shelf still holds a story—and stories don’t lose meaning just because they’ve aged.

We focus so much on material things—how expensive her bag was, what brand his shoes are, where they went shopping for their new outfit—we fail to realize what is in front of us. 

Material things do not by any means classify their value and importance. Even pebbles on the road have value. They were here, and they had a place to be on this Earth, and they fulfilled that. 

That gives us meaning. 

Doing things because you want to, because you love it. 

So no, death does not give life meaning.We give life meaning. 

We’re the ones who create it, and shape it, and carry it with us to the end. 

And in doing so, life becomes worth living.

From my window seat to yours, 

Chiara