What does "meaning" even mean?
I ended up asking myself this while talking with a friend. My friend was interested in Buddhist philosophy, and said that everything has meaning and, at the same time, has none. I had always thought life was empty, that it had no meaning — but I realized I had never really thought about why. According to the idea of emptiness (空, Śūnyatā), nothing has a fixed, unchanging essence; everything changes depending on the surrounding conditions and connections around it.
Unlike superficial experience in the military, when I dug into the root cause of the pointlessness, I found a version of myself that had been losing itself by constantly comparing and adjusting to outside values. I'm very sensitive to other people's expressions, tone of voice, and reactions toward me. Because I didn't want to get hurt by others, the standard for my own words and actions became what other people wanted and what they valued. I think that gap — between my own unclear sense of self and a world that seemed to have all the clear answers — was the real reason behind my feeling of emptiness.
The main character, Meursault, doesn't cry at his mother's funeral — if anything he seems tired — and the very next day he goes to see a comedy film with a woman, as if something inside him is simply empty. Later, while on vacation at the beach with friends, he ends up killing a guy who kept following him. At the trial, people focus not on the murder itself, but on how Meursault behaved at his mother's funeral. After he is sentenced to death, he accepts the absurdity of life, and the story ends with him feeling a kind of happiness in that final moment. My own reading of the ending is that there are other "Meursaults" out there in the world, all being judged by shared, common values — and that none of it means anything in the face of death.
Because the story is told from the main character's point of view, I ended up feeling deeply connected to his emotions — that feeling of being hollow inside, of life having no meaning. Especially during the trial scenes, I felt cut off from the world by some invisible wall, understood by no one.
It is not the exact same texture of feeling with Meursault, but when I look around at the world, I also sometimes feel like a stranger myself. Compared to other people, I take in outside stimulation much more intensely. Even small, unimportant things make me overthink, worry, and end up disliking myself. Because of this, I would always shape myself around other people's values instead of showing who I really was. But the more I did that, the more I became like an empty shell with nothing inside, and my inner world grew more tangled with the gap between "what's normal" and "me." I started to get confused about what the real purpose of life even was, and whether what I wanted right now was something I actually wanted. I was keeping up with the world, but I felt left alone within it.
But there's no single right answer in this world. There's no need to follow everyone else's shared idea of what's right. By building my own standards, I want to make the direction of my own life clear, and build a solid foundation that doesn't get shaken by what other people think.