What if I told you that life has no meaning at all? That it’s just a happy accident, a cosmic coincidence, a random chain of events with no inherent purpose? To search for a meaning behind it is like asking why atoms exist. Some might say atoms exist to build matter, but that answer is no different than saying humans live to form a society. We create purpose because our minds seek patterns, but purpose itself is just another construct.

The Bhagavad Gita, one of the most profound spiritual texts, does not impose a singular meaning of life but instead offers a framework—dharma. Dharma, often translated as duty or righteousness, provides guidance on what is right and what is not. It tells us to act according to our role in the cosmic order. But even after reading the Bhagavad Gita, each person forms their own version of what the meaning of life is. That is the true power of the text—it is so profound and layered that it can rewire one's psychology, hacking into the deepest layers of thought and perception.

For those in the mid-stage of spiritual understanding—those who have started questioning but have not yet reached deep realization—this is the message given: seek your dharma, help others, and experience life. Feel the weight of existence, the beauty of emotions, and the mystery of death as if it were something new. This guidance acts as a bridge, leading seekers to deeper wisdom without shattering their perception of purpose entirely. It allows for a transition from societal constructs to individual realization.

But what about those who are at the very beginning, or those who have already transcended conventional wisdom? For them, the meaning of life shifts. At the highest levels, it becomes clear that life is not about seeking meaning—it is about experiencing existence itself. To be aware, to witness, to feel without attachment—that is the highest realization. The Gita, in its layered wisdom, acknowledges this too. It tells us to act without expectation of reward, to be in the world but not of it, to engage without attachment. The ultimate realization is that purpose is an illusion, and yet, we must live as if it matters.

Other texts and traditions, particularly those rooted in the Abrahamic worldview, often provide a more rigid approach. They suggest that when God created humanity, He gave us an order—to be happy, to multiply, to fulfill His will. These traditions frame purpose as an external decree rather than an internal discovery. There is no room for individual interpretation; there is only obedience. But this approach lacks the openness of the Bhagavad Gita, which does not demand a singular belief but instead provides a path for exploration and self-discovery.

And where does one find the deepest inspiration, beyond scriptures, traditions, and philosophies? Within oneself. Krishna, as the Gita reveals, resides in everyone. He is not merely an external deity but a force within—the awakened consciousness, the inner guide. Those who can awaken their inner Krishna to some extent begin to understand the true meaning of life. They see that real happiness is not in seeking meaning but in embracing the ever-changing dance of existence. Purpose is a game the mind plays to stay engaged, but beyond it, there is something more profound—the realization that existence itself is enough.

To live, to feel, to act without attachment, to awaken to the presence of the divine within—this is the closest thing to meaning one can find. And even that is simply another layer of understanding, waiting to be transcended.