Earlier today, my professor asked us, “What is meaning?”
We were studying our semantics lesson- the meaning of words in a sentence. So when our professor asked us what is meaning, we were dumbfounded. How do you define something that you use to define things? Our professor then expounded the thought, and we came to the topic of defining ourselves by our meaning in life. And this became my inspiration for this post.
So now I will ask you:
What is YOUR meaning?
How do you define yourself?
When we were born, we were defined as our parents’ daughter/son. Growing up, we were defined by the playmates we had and how we were raised. When we go to school we’re defined as a student, whether we were diligent or not. When we had our first girl/boyfriend we were defined by who they were, and what we did with them. When we go to work, we are defined by our job, and where we work. We become “hubby” or “wifey”, then mom or dad. We get old, and little versions of us call us “grandpa” or “grandma”. And then, inevitably, we die. What definition does the world give us next? Gone.
Throughout our lives, we are defined by what we do, who we’re with and what we’ve accomplished. We search for the meaning of life, of who we are. We cover ourselves with material things, thinking that with it comes the true definition of who we are. We comply to the status quo, and when we die, we simply turn into dust. What good have we done then?
We don’t realize that we can make our own definition. We can live life to the way we want it, and not through what other people want. We can sway from the social expectations, and we can surprise ourselves with what we can do. So that even when we’re six feet below the ground, we still have a definition. Either we’re the ones who never took a single risk, or we’re someone who made everyone cry at our funeral because we were an inspiration to them.
So what will it be? An inspiration? Or someone forgotten? Because life won’t give us our definition. We do.