What do you have to offer the world?

Pondering once more the purpose of our ephemeral existence here on this cute little pebble in the void after the Ironman Langkawi tragedy, I was reading the brief biography of one of the victims. It was a touching tribute to the contributions this young woman had made as one of the founders of a childcare company.

As most philosophers and analysers of the human psyche have concluded, human beings derive meaning from more than just existing, from just eating and breathing and having our basic needs met.

We derive meaning either from a cause within ourselves or a cause greater than ourselves, external to our personal ego. At least that is something most can agree on; whether that meaning is to earn the most money, have the most children, die for one’s country or bed as many partners as possible, that is up to the individual to decide.

So once our basic human needs are met, what do we want? To be a part of and to contribute to our community and society, right?

So what do each of us have to offer the world around us?

For many, it is to be a cog in the corporate wheel, to work and contribute as part of the engine that drives society towards…progress?

What are we trying to achieve as a society anyway? To improve our infrastructure and environment for our children to do the same? To reach other planets and space rocks so we can mine them for more resource to build more things for more infrastructure for our children’s children?

Is this a question we should be asking? Or should we just keep our heads down and continue slogging through the hours and days, counting down to our inevitable end at some point?

What exactly is the point of living then?

To store up for our future progeny if we have any? To improve the lives of our fellow humans so they can do the same?

I have no issue contributing to society in some form, in whatever way I feel my time and energy and talents are warranted. However, at the end of the day, what is my core motivation?

Will my community appreciate my contributions, let alone say thank you? I have no need for basic manners, which most locals lack anyway, but that’s besides the point.

Or will my obituary be a brief highlight of whatever brief projects I dabbled in and a full-stop at the end? Some ashes scattered to the wind and sea, if at all; just another soul cast into the great void, to be reincarnated or sucked into hell or whatever happens after this short sojourn.

Maybe I will leave behind some small legacy, some project that will persist, that will hopefully enrich the lives of others or empower one other soul to action or the betterment of the world around them. Will that be enough for me?

Is that enough for you?

To be mourned and remembered by a handful of friends and relatives with reciprocal conversational relationships?

Will what we did together matter? Will what we learned and felt ultimately matter?

Do we need to offer something to get something in return to take with us to the other side?

What if I just sat here like a potato and didn’t write anything down or send any messages or make another action for the rest of my life? Would there be anything to note in the newspapers? Would there be any entry in the Book of Life if I didn’t write anything myself? Would Allah shine down on me for not putting out any music? Would Buddha beam at me for not doing yoga with my fellow man (and woman, and whatever else people identify as these days)?

Would life be more meaningful if I tried to put my talents to good use? Or would it be more meaningful if I chose the hedonist life and maximised my enjoyment of the experience that is simply existing and taking in everything my senses can endure that this world has to offer?

As I approach the appropriate age for a mid-life crisis, I suppose I should clarify if this constitutes as the start of said mid-life crisis. Is the first stage questioning life and the meaning of it all?

If it is, then I think I started my mid-life crisis way back when.

And so we busy ourselves with our daily activities and work and events to drown out the existential angst and mental crises, until we choke our last breath and suddenly there’s nothing left to write about in the article.

Oh, is that it?

– My spirit upon reading whatever piece of media will have me

No famous last words? No sob story about being “taken too soon from this world”? No Facebook posts and photos of my achievements?

So our achievements are linked to our contributions to society that will be acknowledged? Why of course, why didn’t I think of that. The purpose is then to maximise our achievements that society deems acceptable?

That seems so simple!

Now what achievements can I make as an individual? As a group?

What can I offer to the world that will count as an achievement?

What if I have no talents? What else can I offer to the world?

Maybe I should just do what most other people my age do and buy a big, throbbing motorbike.

As far as the world goes, it has no need for meaning; it will happily go on existing and feeling and procreating and surviving. Meaning is a luxury, or a figment of our lofty illogical minds; like an umbrella to a mosquito in a sandstorm, largely superfluous but it looks cool to its mosquito buddies.

Of course that begs the basic question: do we need meaning to live happily?

Happiness is one of those universally-touted benchmarks or standards that everyone chases but has no idea what exactly it is. Sure, you can tick off a number of boxes and cede that you are indeed happy, at least at this juncture or for this period of time, but what exactly is true happiness?

Maybe if I’m smiling in all my photos then I’m happy.

Perhaps that’s why people take so many selfies…

I think at this point, it’s a good night’s rest.

In the meantime, I hope you’re doing a better job than I am at find meaning in your life. Adieu!