What is the meaning of life? When we leave empty-handed, why do we go on living as if there is no end when the next moment could be the finale?

I am still figuring out the answer to this one. But here is what I know so far.

We have evolved through survival (though I often wonder what does breathing even mean). We must all be interconnected — nature and us — for we evolved to be pretty interdependent on each other. There is no food without the sun and no life without water and no survival without plants. Everything works for everything else.

The bigger goal of life is to keep the world running. Our instincts always make us prefer a goal that adds value to the world — to something bigger than us. The meaning seems to be survival. As H.G.Wells demonstrated in his book The Time Machine that when humans had idealized their living conditions, they had no reason to strive.

I feel that being here, at this moment, and going through the rut is the purpose of life.