Human Existence: It’s Icy Cold Out There, But That’s OK

If the 109th birthday of French existentialist Jean-Paul Sartre isn’t a good time to discuss the meaning of life, it’s hard to imagine what would be.

I agree with Sartre that we live in a universe that is completely indifferent to us and our happiness, and that there is no meaning to our lives other than that which we ourselves confer upon it.  Now, some people see this viewpoint as dour and depressing, but think for a second: isn’t it the precise opposite?  Aren’t you glad you weren’t born to become a certain type of person, with a pre-ordained disposition and outlook, and a fixed set of values and aspirations?  All these things are completely your choice, and that alone seems like it could be something worth celebrating.

Of course, you might say, “Well, I really like how the Stoics live, with their focus on virtues, e.g., wisdom, and how they derive from our behavior and our determination to fashion our lives in the most positive manner possible. Those guys were fantastic; I want to live like that.” That’s cool, but just remember that it was you alone who made that decision; you could have decided to be a hedonistic slug, a Trump supporter, or a thousand other things.

For what it may be worth, I personally confer meaning on my own life by trying to make this experience we call life on Earth as sane and pleasant as possible for myself, my family, and all my fellow travelers on this planet. It’s not as if I don’t like martinis, music festivals, sex, and so forth, but it’s really the sense of accomplishment in making this world a tiny bit better for me and everyone else that means the most to me.

Oh well, to each his own, as my dad used to say.

I hope you’ll take a moment today and think about the meaning you bring to your own life.  If you’ll pardon one more cliche’, there’s no time like the present—especially insofar as it’s Sartre’s birthday.