What is meaningful in my life?

I never really thought about what gave my life meaning. I didn’t question it. It didn’t even occur to me to question it. Since we all die, and we don’t know what happens after death, what we do and feel like during life is what matters the most. That doesn’t mean we can go and do whatever we want and steal and kill people. We just have to keep living, but we have to live more. What matters are the happy moments, the sad moments and how you deal with them, and those moments where you almost die from laughter. That’s what is meaningful in my life. When I’m sitting there dying I won’t care about other things. I won’t care about what house I had or what car I had. I’ll care about who was in my house, all the memories from my house, all the trips taken in my car. There is no single thing or single experience that determines the meaning in our lives. Experiences make up the meaningful things in our lives.  Our lives are a series of moments. Whether we decide to embrace them all and go with whatever happens or sit there upset that everyone’s life has no meaning compared to the rest of the universe is up to us. So what if you die and after a generation or two no one knows you ever existed. Does it really matter if the people you never met know who you are? What matters is what you think, and whether you can honestly say you enjoyed life and found joy or meaning in the simplest of things. What matters is if you’re able to look back and smile and ignore the bad parts. You choose what you remember.