Meaning As a Responsibility -- How to Feel Less Vain
- Mr. Tomasio Rubinshtein
- 3 days ago
- 6 min read
Updated: 2 days ago

The Burden of the Unattributed Life
Life, in its raw state, offers no inherent meaning. It simply is, eternal in energy but ever changing in form. We come into this reality without being asked, and then, when we reach a certain degree of independence, we are then left to decide how to live our lives, with this decision being our responsibility.
This vain reality, often obscured by the survival needs of daily existence, presents us with a profound, inescapable burden: the responsibility of attribution. Meaning, you see, is not necessarily a gift bestowed upon us by some benevolent cosmic force, nor is it a pre-packaged commodity to be consumed with a price tag. Rather, it is a deliberate act, a conscious imposition of significance upon a reality that goes on with or without us.
To deny this responsibility is to condemn oneself to a life adrift, a vessel without a function, tossed by the tyrannical currents of circumstance, ultimately destined for the desolate shores of pointlessness.
This pointlessness, let us be clear, is not merely the fleeting moments of a dull afternoon after work is done. It is a deeper, more insidious void – a lack of resonance, a hollowness that echoes chronically; a nagging suspicion that all endeavors, all passions, all struggles, are ultimately without greater reasoning than that which we attribute to it.
It is the antithesis of a life truly lived, a state of being where the vibrant excitements of experience fade into a monochromatic blur, where the very act of existing feels like an uninspired rehearsal for a dull play. To merely exist, without the active engagement of meaning-making, is to minimize the privilege --and burden -- of consciousness.
One might drift into this state of un-meaning not through malicious intent, but through a subtle, gradual abdication of willpower. The relentless demands of the daily survival, the seductive ease of passive consumption, the fear of confronting the vast, indifferent universe – these can bring us into a frustrating existence, where intentionality is replaced by stagnation, and whose frustration is merely experienced, not utilized for something greater.
We, then, become spectators to our own lives, observing rather than participating, waiting for meaning to present itself, rather than forging it with our own hands. This passive acceptance of the meaningless is, perhaps, the most tragic failure of all. It's a silent surrender to the very emptiness we instinctively dread; to the void that renders us lonely even when we are in company.
The Architecture of Purpose and Responsibility
The path to a life filled with meaning, therefore, is not through revelation but done by construction. It is an active, ongoing process of building, brick by brick, the very framework of purpose. This architecture of meaning is not dictated by external blueprints or decrees; it is deeply personal, forged in the crucible of our unique experiences, values, and aspirations.
It demands a radical shift from passive reception to active creation, from waiting for significance to imbuing it with our own deliberate choices. It is, in essence, an act of profound self-leadership, where the self is sovereign over one's life.
How, then, does one engage in this vital act of attribution? It is through the application of our faculties to endeavors that resonate with our deepest selves. It is found in the craft of our work, in genuine relationships, forged by the bravery of vulnerability, and in the pursuit of knowledge, in the courageous act of creation.
It is one that is done on a regular basis, if not on a daily basis, the decision to forge our own meaning in an otherwise pointless existence.
Paradoxically, it is also found in the confrontation of suffering, of being able to give meaning to the suffering, as Nietzsche would suggest. Through these activities, the otherwise arbitrary events of life acquire weight, depth, and enduring significance. No one is going to do it for us, it is our responsibility to forge meaning within the life that was given to us, so the vain-ness of reality will finally be abolished.
And it is uncertain if the vain-ness of reality will indeed be abolished. It is only through the daring, personal, regular attempt of overcoming it, in which we can see for ourselves, if the vain-ness will finally be gone.
A life rich in attributed meaning is one that feels full, substantial, and resilient against the inevitable absurdities, adversities and hardships that life presents. It is a life lived with ambition, not merely endured for the sake of endurance. The endurance becomes but a reinforced tunnel that brings us to the next event which we find meaningful, in an otherwise hollow existence.
After all, it is through the endurance of vain-ness, in which we can persevere and find ourselves in a time or place which we can truly call meaningful.
And what could be called meaningful? Anything -- and anyone -- that makes us feel alive. Anything, or anyone, that can make our lives feel like they have a reason to be endured.
The individual who embraces this responsibility of meaning-giving, stands firm against the tides of pointlessness, finding purpose not in some grand, preordained design, but in the deliberate, continuous act of crafting their own narrative, of assigning value where none might otherwise exist. This is the essence of a life well-lived: the ability to transcend the pointlessness of mere survival, for the creation/finding of purpose in the face of cosmos that stay whether or not we stay.
The ability to create a "why" to the "how" of life is the regular responsibility of the conscious mind, willing to endure reality for a reasoning it finds worthy to endure reality for.
Let us, then, embrace this responsibility, so we could transcend mere survival and reach a state of being truly alive. Let us shed the heavy cloak of apathy and the quiet despair of the unexamined life. Let us seek meaning not in the escapisms the external world offers to us, but in the steady, internal flame of a life lived with intention, with curiosity, and with a profound sense of interconnectedness to a journey we ourselves are bravely paving.
For it is in this courageous act of meaning-attribution that the gnawing emptiness of pointlessness might finally stop, replaced by the quiet, lasting satisfaction of a life truly, deliberately, and meaningfully lived.
I am writing this article because I have realized that my existence is tragic. Regardless of what I do, my existence will always be left unsatisfied eventually.
It is then my responsibility, to carve meaning within the suffering, within the lack of satisfaction, to create something truly meaningful and great.
With my lack of satisfaction, I build Philosocom, a grand empire of philosophical articles, which I write to occupy myself and to contribute to you.
I always seek to be of meaning, of relevance, in whatever I do. Despite all the meaningful things I did, from helping people to saving lives from the pit of despair, I still feel empty.
Thanks to this article I now realize it is my reasoning, every day, to fight this vain-ness by doing something truly meaningful, like writing articles that can help rectify the world.
But the tragedy is, that I will always feel this vain-ness, gnawing into the depths of my soul.
I have embraced the void, realizing my existence will always be hollow.
It is, then, my reasoning, my ambition, to not relent to the vain-ness that follows; to live life meaningfully; to contribute; to help; to be of service.
I feel that it's the only way this annoying, gnawing feeling of empty-ness will yield something truly meaningful. It is the only way in which I sense this gnawing emptiness will be redeemed, if not in feeling, at least by creation.
Had I not felt so empty inside of me, I would not bother to contribute, I would not bother to help, and most importantly, I would not bother to save people from the temptation to take away their own lives.
I am a pit of emptiness that constantly seeks to be redeemed through contribution. That is my purpose, my game of life.
All I want to do is to contribute. It is the only thing, outside love, that makes me feel truly alive, and not an undead.
I am Tomasio Rubinshtein, the undead philosopher, and all I want to do is to forge meaning so I can better deal with what I perceive as a curse: This gnawing vain-ness of reality that only seems to leave once I do something which can be seen as truly meaningful, like constructing a high quality article for the world to enjoy, or to help someone in need.
I am cursed, I am trapped, I am imprisoned. And as someone who knew me, told me once:
Love and Philosocom will be the only things that will gratify you.
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