Friday Filisophy has had a bit of an unplanned hiatus, which I shall begin to rectify, at least a little, today. I think, read, and watch a fair bit relating at least tangentially to meaning: the meaning and purpose of our lives. In a way that’s the biggest question for every one of us; without a sense of meaning and purpose we can feel empty and lost.
People seem to have always sought meaning, in various ways. One way has been – and is – through religion. Needless to say, I don’t believe that’s the only, the best, or even a good way of finding meaning and purpose, but millions upon millions appear to.
I thought what I might do today is present summaries of a couple of different notions of how we came to be and what that says about our purpose, and the meaning of our lives. In the interest of not being a dick, I shall present them without comment (save for the inevitable difference in tone that will no doubt creep into each summary). 
First:
In the beginning there was a magic all-powerful and all-knowing dude who created the entire universe – including you and me – from nothing. Despite being unimaginably powerful and removed from us by a gulf more vast than separates us from single-celled organisms, this being for some reason needs and demands your worship and love, and if he doesn’t get it, will cast you into an eternity of dreadful torment when you die. The purpose of your life then is explicitly to worship and glorify this being; everything you do should be in his name and for his glory.
Second:
You and I are star-stuff made flesh. In Carl Sagan’s words: “… a way for the universe to look at itself”. We are the results of billions of years of chance, combining elements forged in stars and supernovae, come together briefly to make you, me, everyone we love (and everyone we waste time hating). We are here in this configuration for about 0.00058% of the time the universe has existed. So far. Then the star-stuff that makes us will return to the universe to form part of someone or something else. Our very transience is what leads to our purpose: to make it count. The meaning of our lives is no more nor less than what we make it during our fraction of a cosmic second on this earth.
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