There is a feeling of remarkable nothingness where I used to feel implicit purpose. However, no peace of mind is worthy of rejecting the absolute truth of finitude. That is where meaning comes from. We may only have this life, and I can no longer stand to waste it worrying about where I might end up after. There is no greater offence against true meaning than to insist on a final destination. Meaning is not inherent, it’s created. I am still learning how to create my own meaning, after a lifetime of believing it was already decided for me.