Making my own purpose

Does life have an inherent purpose? I don't know. Maybe the purpose of life is living.

I picture the answer as a blank space. I could look at it and become a nihilist. I could also get excited and say, “I'm going to create my own purpose.” That possibility appeals to me.

Then there is the question that can occupy a whole life: “What will happen to me?” I think that question deserves another one. Who is this “me” I am so worried about?

Ramana Maharshi is someone I have learned from. His enquiry, “Who am I?”, keeps bringing me back to that question.

What I call “me” feels like a construct: the stories, the personality, the opinions I have collected about myself. I can spend my whole life working my ass off to defend it. When I look closely, I struggle to find a fixed person underneath all those descriptions.

I think of my personality and ego as things I use in the outside world. People can call me Shahzad and have their own idea of who that is. I can let them.

What works for me is taking myself less seriously. Internally, I have no opinion of myself. That feels freeing. I can get on with living, building and choosing what I want to give my life to.

I still have questions about all of this. For now, creating a purpose and living it feels interesting to me.