From the moment we become conscious of ourselves, we begin to question. Why are we here? What is the meaning of life? These are ancient, worn questions-ones without absolute answers. Philosophers like Albert Camus and Jean-Paul Sartre dedicated their lives to this search, not so much to find meaning, but to cope with its lack thereof. Absurdism, the philosophy that was born of this conflict, has this extreme message to deliver: life is meaningless, but we can create our own meaning. This is not a reason for despair. On the contrary, it can be liberating. Where nothing is set in stone, anything can be.

Absurdism begins from a conflict; man’s desire for meaning runs up against the silent ghostliness of the universe. Camus called this the “absurd condition.” We desire meaning, and the world provides none, no cosmic instruction manual. For some, this recognition leads to nihilism—the belief that nothing matters at all. But Camus wouldn’t let it go at that. He felt that the recognition of the absurd was merely the beginning. The question then is, what do we do now?

In The Myth of Sisyphus, Camus compares the human condition to the Greek myth of Sisyphus, a man who was condemned to push a rock up a mountain for eternity, only to have it roll back down again every time. On the surface, it seems like a bleak metaphor. But Camus flips the story on its head. He writes, “The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man’s heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.” Why? Because by pushing the rock, Sisyphus is choosing to rebel against the absurd. He is not giving up. He is finding meaning in the act of revolt.

This revolt,this conscious act of continuing despite the lack of intrinsic meaning,is the heart of absurdism. Sartre, while more closely linked to existentialism, has something very similar to say. He believed that “existence precedes essence”—that we are born without an inherent purpose and must define ourselves through our actions. This is freedom in its purest form. Without our lives being predetermined, we are left to create our lives. We are artists working on a blank canvas. You must choose whether to make that canvas beautiful, or to leave it with nothing.

But this freedom does not mean that we must all become philosophers or revolutionaries. Creating meaning can be as simple as having genuine relationships, creating art, committing to a cause, or simply enjoying a beautiful sunset. These things do not deny the absurd, they embrace it. Absurdism does not ask us to ignore the chaos of life or pretend that it all adds up. It insists that we stare into the void and smile anyway.

In daily life, absurdism plays out in subtle ways. We make jokes about terrible things, entertain ourselves with meaningless routines, or weep at movies even though we know they’re not real. These contradictions are definitively human. We are paradoxes on legs, creatures of logic and emotion, reason and randomness. The absurd is not an ivory-tower philosophical concept. It’s in every text we write, every plan we make, well knowing the universe owes us nothing.

The necessity of absurdism is disclosed in a world plagued by suffering, injustice, and uncertainty. As capitals are stormed, tensions rise, war draws closer and closer, we must find a way to do good and to find our morals. Absurdism offers that. Neither resignation nor false hope, but acceptance. Acceptance that life is uncertain, and meaning is not handed to us. Instead, it is made, moment by moment, choice by choice. We can either choose to spread hate and fear monger, or do good and make meaning out of this absurd life. 

So what is the message here? Simple, but not easy: life is not meaningful, but we can give it meaning. That’s the paradox. That’s the freedom. And that’s the responsibility. The absurd need not paralyze us. It can propel us.

We don’t need to wait for the universe to be rational. We don’t need to find The Answer. We can create music, fall in love, hold each other, chase dreams, do good, fail, try again, and laugh at the absurdity of it all. Not because it’s logical, but because it’s ours. There is a beauty in that.