Some folks find life to be deeply meaningful. Others do not. Many feel that there are periods during the life that are rich with meaning but that there are other times that seem devoid of much sense of purpose. There are times when it does not feel necessary to be purposive but an excess of shiftless being also grows drab, as many Occupy Protestors have found not only while at jobs but also during hanging out at the mass scale sit-in protests.
There are people who view art or religion or sex or having a large crop of children as being the solution to issues of meaning in life. Personally, I have found that all of the above – although I am the mother of only one person I have looked after some other peoples’ sometimes, help. All of the above have been very meaningful to me at times and have facilitated my happiness for a time. No one of them on their own seem to ‘do the trick’ to make me permanently happy and I hope that a lobotomy is not ‘the only way’. [That last one is supposed to only be a joke, not a reality].
A lot of it seems to be that we all benefit from routine and regularity to some degree – like so much in life: too much of it or not enough of it can lead to imbalances. Well, on the surface and in simplistic terms that makes me as much an Epicurean as a Christian – but from this point in time and space, one can be both. Epicurus – I was told in an undergraduate philosophy class, just reported that the key to success in life is ‘moderation’. ‘Moderation in all things’ he is reported to have said. Words of wisdom not to be scorned in any day or age.
The bottom line is that however meaningful or not our lives feel, all of our lives occur one day at a time. There are times when the only reason life seems less meaningful is that our real purpose is obscured the same way that things on the bottom of the pile of stuff on your desk are still really there. Sometimes one forgets about them but other times it exerts a constant pressure to everything above it.