Finding Meaning in the Fragility of Life
Life itself may be meaningless, but I hope it will be fulfilling.
I recently watched a powerful speech delivered by a young Chinese Speaker on TikTok. It was about embracing mortality and the quest to find meaning in the fragility of life. I found it meaningful and I wanted to share it with my readers.
The speaker is 刘媛媛 (pronounced as Liu Yuan Yuan) from Hebei, China. You can find her on TikTok with her handle @liuyuanyuan1314. Below is her speech translated from Mandarin.
In our rural area in Hebei, there is a custom called “起丧"(pronounced as qisang and yields the meaning of exhume). What does qisang mean? I witnessed it once during my childhood.
In our village, an elderly man passed away and needed to be buried. They also needed to exhume his former wife, who had been deceased for over 20 years, to re-bury her with him. The villagers gathered to watch this solemn event unfold.
I remember seeing his descendants meticulously searching the ground, digging three feet deep, in a careful search for the remains of a person who had been dead for decades. It was a poignant sight. In the end, they found only a few teeth and a strand of hair, the remnants of a life that had long since faded away.
That was the first and only time I saw the physical manifestation of someone who had been dead for many years. It was a profound experience that made me contemplate the concept of death. That night, as I lay beside my mother, I pondered the uncertainty of my own mortality. I wondered when my time would come to an end. Perhaps it would be on my 80th birthday or another unforeseen day. The realization struck me that each day I wake up, I have one less day to live.
In the darkness, I felt compelled to make the most of each moment. I believed that by dreaming at night, I would not waste the precious hours of the evening. I reached out and touched my mother, who, being much older, would face the inevitability of death sooner than I. We would all eventually be reduced to mere fragments of our former selves – a few teeth, a strand of hair – before vanishing completely. The cycles of life would continue as if we had never existed.
This realization filled me with a profound sense of fear. The silent and inconspicuous nature of death terrified me. As a child, my teacher asked about my dreams and aspirations. I confidently declared that I wanted to leave a lasting legacy, to become the most successful and influential person. At that time, I believed that the meaning of life was to do earth-shattering things. I was relentless in my pursuit, pushing myself to the limit.
In my determination, I devised strategies to combat my weaknesses. During winter mornings when I struggled to wake up, I placed a basin of water and a towel beside my bed. The next day, when I groggily awoke, I would forcefully press the freezing towel against my face, jolting myself awake to begin studying. But as time passed, the relentless intensity of my self-imposed pressures began to wear me down. I grew weary, lonely, and unhappy.
We are not living for others to see; we are living for ourselves. We shouldn't seek validation and approval from others to highlight our pitiful sense of existence. We are not here to exist as mere spectacles for their viewing pleasure. Instead, we should live for ourselves. The passing of time continued unabated, and I questioned how we could live a life that would not be wasted.
Birds are born to catch insects and migrate, while fish spend their lives swimming. As higher beings, we humans have the ability to shape our own lives. Yet, this freedom often perplexes us. Life is akin to a set of building blocks borrowed from the heavens. Regardless of how we construct our lives, everything will eventually be taken away. Compared to the vast universe, we are insignificant dust. Compared to death, our lives seem like a ridiculous illusion.
Perhaps, life has no inherent meaning. Perhaps, the importance lies in embracing the present moment and cherishing our experiences. Life has no predetermined outcome. Instead, we should find happiness in the journey itself. I realized that the statement "the most important thing in life is to be happy" holds true. However, after a few years, I found myself in a state of confusion again. Is happiness enough?
During my university days, Dota was the most popular game. My boyfriend at the time loved Dota more than me. If his parents continue to pay him money, he could happily play Dota for his entire life. I realized that happiness is not just about seeking immediate pleasures. Living aimlessly and following our desires without purpose will only increase our sense of emptiness and do nothing to alleviate our fear of death.
We shouldn't give up pursuing because of the uncertainty of life. On the contrary, we need to have a pursuit that helps us reduce our fear of this uncertainty. However, this pursuit should not simply be a surrender to desires and becoming their slave.
I don't know if you agree with my viewpoint on how to exist as a human being. But I believe that each and every one of us should be adequately prepared for death, not by preparing for a grand funeral, but by preparing for a life worth living. The person standing in front of you, regardless of whether they have achieved great things or lived a long life, regardless of whether they are content or not, they will eventually die on a certain day. You and I, we have no inherent meaning, but we yield meaning to each other. Life itself may be meaningless, but I hope it will be fulfilling.
I thoroughly enjoy this speech and hope you like the underlying message. Let us embrace the reality of our mortality. Life may lack an ultimate meaning, but it is in the present moment and the experiences we cherish that we derive fulfilment. Let us find joy in the process and live a life that is satisfying to ourselves, even in the face of our inevitable demise.
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Beautiful ❤️
Winston, Thank you for sharing this sage's words. D