Written by Idayat Jinadu
In the middle of the night, sometimes, my existential crisis creeps in to ask me the meaning of life. If I reply that it is meaningless, it would be opening a door that ought to remain closed. If I reply that it isn’t, I would be confused and try to ascertain the exact meaning of life, which is another thread I don’t enjoy tugging.
But in this piece, I want to explore the concept of a meaningful life and our places in it, and it’s fine because I’m not triggered by an existential crisis.
Let me start with a myth.
In Greek mythology, there was a king named Sisyphus who cheated death twice. The first time, he trapped the god of death, Thanatos, by tricking him into being chained up. The consequence was that people became immortal since the god of death was captured, and this displeased the gods. The second time, after the king died and went to the underworld, he was able to convince Persephone to allow him to return to life to punish his wife for not burying him properly. These attempts to cheat death incurred the wrath of the gods, who punished him by subjecting him to the agony of rolling a boulder up a hill for eternity. The boulder falls back down whenever it nears the top, and Sisyphus is condemned to roll it up again and again, for eternity.
This is called The Myth of Sisyphus, and in 1942, the philosopher Albert Camus proclaimed that we must imagine Sisyphus as happy.
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There are days when it is hard to connect to our purpose. On those days, life becomes similar to a boring movie we started but can’t stop watching because we have already invested our time and energy. So, you sit in front of the TV and watch flickering lights and images, motionless and bored. On days like this, meaning is lost in the fog, and perhaps living becomes futile. You definitely don’t want to die, but you are tired. It is neither depression nor anything else but just a weary state of being where, at that point in time, meaning is lost.
Moments like this are treated as an anomaly in pop culture. We are always lectured to find happiness and purpose in everything; after all, we were destined to be great and fulfil abundant prosperity. So when you mention that you aren’t feeling as joyful as expected on certain days, people tell you to try to be happy. It is almost as if sadness isn’t a human feeling, and it reminds me of the Pixar animated movie Inside Out, where Riley couldn’t confront her sadness but instead used joy to cover up for bad days; she always saw the silver lining in dark clouds, and at the end, she became overwhelmed and depressed.
In my view, as humans, it is important for us to experience sadness. Life isn’t always a bed of roses; everyone knows this. Yet, there is a rebuttal against sadness in pop culture. Perhaps life would be better if we allowed ourselves to acknowledge that sadness is a necessary accompaniment to joy. If you feel joy, you must also feel sadness. If there are days when you experience bursts of purpose, there will be days when you feel life is meaningless as well.
The human emotional scale isn’t a straight line; it’s a zigzag. I guess I could say it’s unscripted. Emotions are dictated by moods, and moods change as easily as the weather. Also, two things can be true at once: contentment is boredom, and happiness is boredom. Purpose can be draining, so it’s important that there are days we allow ourselves to feel sad and tired.
This means that when we count sadness as part of the genuine human emotions to experience, there is no such thing as a meaningless life.
Sisyphus was condemned to an eternity of rolling a boulder up a hill. The punishment is definitely the futility of such great effort; however, according to the philosophy of Albert Camus, ‘the struggle itself towards the heights is enough to fill a man’s heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.’
I interpret this to mean that even a life of sadness is a meaningful life because the very existence of a person means there’s meaning. It is up to us to find our individual meanings, or, in other words, our purpose. I believe human life is inherently meaningful. We are in an era where only certain careers are glamorised; it’s almost no longer an option to want something small. We must all dream big and see the sky as our starting point, but I think it’s also valid to just want to be, without glamour. I believe it’s just as valid when contentment is enough to fulfil the soul, not one that requires validation.
Life can be a struggle. Life can be sad. Life can be painful. Of course, there’s a threshold that it must not cross, and when it does, it becomes a cause for alarm. However, in the normal human routine of existence, sadness, pain, and struggle have their place. I genuinely believe that accepting this is saying yes to a well-rounded life.
There are times I don’t feel like doing anything. There are times the prospect of success becomes a burden; I think of the expectations I strive to meet and my shoulders slump as I sink into a quiet melancholy. These times, I imagined I answered William Shakespeare when he asked “to be or not to be?” with “not to be.” I just want to be more familiar with ennui and have bigger control over the process of my life. None of these mean my life isn’t meaningful; I’m just experiencing life like any other person who is yet to know satisfaction.
Meaning is found in the totality of human experience; therefore, even when I’m not productive and finding greener grass—or trying to water my grass—I’m still meaningful. A life that seems meaningless is meaningful because the determinant isn’t what one does; it’s simply the fact that a person is alive. And I hope this helps you through the bad days, as they are merely a symptom of being alive.
About the Author:
Idayat Jinadu is a brand strategist and PhD student working on the culture of waste disposal and its effect on environmental security for her dissertation. She is inspired by impact and wants to create things that matter for people who need them to be free, liberated, and who they truly want to be. She is on the writing track for the 2025 Adventures Creators Programme.
