The point of life

The Point of Life A Facebook memory appeared today — Sana and Idris, side by side, laughing in that effortless way only children can. They were truly two peas in a pod. The photo made me pause, the way memories often do — soft yet piercing. Yesterday, I listened to a podcast where someone said, “The point of life is death.” The phrase unsettled me at first, but it stayed with me. Maybe because it echoed questions Sana often asked. She used to wonder aloud about the existence of God — “Why does God do what He does? Why do innocent people die? What’s the point of life if it’s just a mundane routine?” Her mind was always reaching for answers, her heart wrestling with the contradictions of faith and suffering. And I find myself asking similar questions now. Yes, one wonders — why do we spend so much of our lives doing what we do? We chase goals, check boxes, and move from one task to another. Just like students have a rubric to complete an assessment, is there a rubric for life? A checklist we’re meant to fulfill before the inevitable end? Maybe there isn’t one. Maybe life’s “assessment” lies in how we show up — in kindness, love, curiosity, and resilience. Perhaps the true measure isn’t in what we complete, but in what we feel, question, and give along the way. Life is fleeting, yes, but within its brevity lie moments that shimmer — laughter between siblings, shared wonder, quiet reflection. Maybe the point isn’t to escape the inevitable, but to live fully before it arrives.