It's difficult to directly answer questions like "why am I here," "what is the meaning of my life," or "what's my purpose." It may even be impossible.

However, I believe we can attempt to reverse-engineer our sense of meaning or perhaps trick ourselves into revealing what we find meaningful. Here's how I've been approaching it lately.

Meaning, it seems, is an exercise in making sense of the world around us and, by extension, our place in it.

Instead of tackling the big question head-on (i.e., what's the meaning of my life), we can examine what we find salient and relevant about the world around us and work backward to determine what the "meaning" might be.

Here's what I mean. The italicized text below represents my inner monologue when contemplating the question, "What is the world out there outside of my mind and body? What is the world out there?"

The world out there is full of people, first and foremost. It teems with friends I haven't made yet, individuals with stories and unique contributions. Everyone has a talent and something special about them, I just know it. The world out there is full of untapped potential.

The world out there also contains uncharted territory. There is natural beauty everywhere on this planet. It is so varied and colorful, with countless plants, animals, rocks, mountains, rivers, and landscapes. The world out there is wild. Beyond that, we don't even know the mysteries of our own oceans and planet, let alone our solar system or the rest of the universe. The world out there is a vast galaxy filled with natural beauty and wonder.

But the world out there has its share of senseless human suffering, often due to our own mistakes and the systems we strive to perfect. There is rampant gun violence, hunger, homelessness, anger, and disease—all preventable. The world out there is a mess, but the silver lining is that not all of that senseless suffering is outside our control. We can make it better if we do better.

The world out there also has an abundance of goodness. Many people strive to be part of something greater than themselves. They help their neighbors, practice kindness, teach children to play the piano, visit the homebound, tell the truth, do the right thing, seek to understand other cultures, learn new languages, and strive to be respectful and inclusive. The world out there is full of parks, festivals, parties, and places where people play, eat, and share together. The world out there is generous.

The world out there is also close. My world is people like Robyn, Riley, Robert, Myles, and Emmett, as well as our parents, siblings, family, friends, colleagues, neighbors, and kind strangers. The world out there is our neighborhood, our backyard, our church, our school, and our local pub. It's the people on our Christmas card list and those we encounter around town for friendly conversations. The world out there includes the individuals I pray for during one or two rounds of a rosary. It doesn't have to be big and grand; it's the people I can hug, kiss, cook a meal for, or call just to say "hey."

So, the exercise is simple:

1. Find a place to write (pen, paper, computer, etc.).

2. Set a 15-minute timer.

3. Start with the phrase "The world out there is..." and keep writing. If you get stuck, begin a new paragraph with "The world out there is..." and continue.

After completing this exercise and taking stock of my own answers, I begin to see patterns in my responses that resonate with my day-to-day life. Meaning, for me, involves helping unleash the untapped potential in others, exploring the natural world, dreaming about the universe, fostering goodness and virtue, and being a person of good character. Meaning, for me, also entails honoring and cherishing my closest relationships, both the ones that are close in proximity and deep in their intimacy.

It seems that meaning is not generated in what we think of as our "brain." Our brain manages our body's energy budget, makes decisions, predicts the future, and solves problems. That’s our brain’s work.

Meaning, I believe, is created in our mind. When I think of the mind, I envision it as the function we perform when we absorb the seemingly infinite information about the external world through all five senses and attempt to make sense of it.

Meaning, it appears, is not an abstract thing we have to create. We don't "make" meaning. Instead, we discern meaning from what we find relevant and salient in the world around us. Out of the countless details about the external world, we hone in on certain aspects. The meaning is what bubbles to the top of our minds. We don't have to make meaning; we can just notice it.

This exercise has shown me that we can reverse-engineer our way into discovering meaning. If we can bring to the surface what we believe about the external world, it becomes clear what holds significance for us.

For example, if you find that "the world is full of cities and people, which leads to innovations in business, art, and culture," it's an easy leap to conclude that part of your meaning or purpose likely involves experiencing or improving cities and their cultural engines. If you discover that "the world is full of teachings about God and has a history of religious worship," it's a straightforward leap to deduce that part of your meaning or purpose likely relates to your faith and religious practice.

Being mindful of what we notice about the world is our back door into these abstract and challenging questions about "meaning" or "purpose."

What's difficult about this, I think, is the sheer volume of noise out there. Also, if we accept this perspective on meaning, we must acknowledge that meaning is not static and enduring—if it's discerned by our worldview, then changes in our perspective may also change or even manipulate our notions of meaning.

Many people try to tell us about the world outside of us. This includes companies through their commercials, authors, politicians, artists, philosophers, scientists, and priests—anyone who shares an opinion. Even I do this—if you're reading this, I am also guilty of adding to the noise that shapes your perspective of the external world.

Making sense of our lives is crucial for feeling sane and alive. It would be easy to average out what others around us say about the world out there, but if meaning truly is a discernment of what we notice about the external world, just listening to everyone else would effectively outsource the meaning in our lives to other people.

I don't think we should do that. After all, we live in a country where we have the freedom to speak, think, and make sense of the world for ourselves—what a terrible freedom to waste. Instead, we should be selective about who we pay attention to and listen to our own minds, noticing what they're trying to tell us. We shouldn't outsource meaning; we should notice it for ourselves.