No-one knows what the meaning of life is or can reveal the true purpose of the universe. Whether you're an eminent scholar with letters after your name or an ordinary person in the street, nobody knows. We're all playing guessing games. It doesn't matter if you're another Stephen Hawking, expressing beliefs founded on profound mathematical theories, or an ordinary bus driver asking his passenger ‘What’s it all about?’
The Jehovah's Witnesses called at my house, proselytising their collective angle on the meaning of life and the next day the Mormons came. They were both unshakeable in their beliefs so it's up to everyone to formulate their own individual stance on the matter. Rarely do you find someone who says: ‘I don’t know,’ rather than pretend they do know about ‘life, the universe and everything’ as Douglas Adams wrote in The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to The Galaxy.
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Why should we care anyway? A cat lives its life, content being a cat and doesn't (as far as we know) debate its existence. It won't gaze at the moon and wonder how to get there as humans have. We ponder because we have reason but maybe it's a burden or even a curse since we're never satisfied with the way things are. We always wonder and want more.
What other species on this planet desires an afterlife? Only humans crave more than this physical realm. Who are we to expect more? Everything in the universe lives and dies, bequeathing its elements to posterity. In their death throes, stars that shone billions of years ago, spewed their stardust into the cosmos to create our own sun. Their atoms became the carbon in our bodies. All entities on Earth are children of the stars.
If the universe exists, it exists for a reason and the reason is to sustain life. Thus it would be logical to conclude that the meaning of life is