Sometimes it just gets to me: what is the meaning of life? Not that I am not grateful for everything that I can do, but sometimes when I have nothing to do and just let my thoughts go on I come really often to this same question.
I know that I won’t find the answer to it. Philosophers have been thinking about it for centuries. Still I can’t get it out of my head: What is this plan that God has with my life? What will I be doing in twenty years? Will I just be one of all these other women who have an ordinary career and and ordinary family with ordinary children? Will I regret my life when I am eighty? Or will I actually make a difference?
Maybe I will be helping children in Africa or spread the Word of God in the Middle-East. I really don’t see myself doing that, but who knows… If that would be true my life would have a meaning. Maybe it isn’t about the meaning of life at all, maybe it is just about living a meaningful life.
I want look back at my life when I’m eighty and think: yes, my life was really meaningful.