People ponder the same question all the time: what is the meaning of life? Bring up "deep questions" and without doubt some idiot will ask "what is the meaning of life". What the hell? How are you supposed to answer that question?
The real question is, why do we keep looking for meaning from life? We are little beings on a small planet in a small Galaxy in some Milky Way that's in a constantly expanding universe. We're irrelevant in the grand scheme of things (I personally am irrelevant even in the small scale of, say, school). Why do we keep acting like our lives make a difference? Like we have to keep looking for our true purpose and passion and follow some instinctive pulls toward the right place in the universe, and that there is no color, no meaning in life unless we reach there. Why do we place so much pressure in getting to our meaning? Isn't it so much easier to sit back and laugh and enjoy our measly and irrelevant 85 years on this irrelevant chunk of rock? Isn't it so much better?
My point with these musings isn't that you should try to find a purpose and a passion. Of course you should. What else gives you drive to live and enjoy doing so? My point is that if you stress too much on finding it, how will you ever enjoy anything else in life? No moment is ever the present. You've already read that last sentence and it is in your past. The most definite thing to us is the past, and the future is an unpredictable and hazy thing, and as stubborn humans, we will always try to find the answer.
But there isn't always an answer in life. There isn't always solidarity in life, or a meaning to life. Hell, sometimes there isn't even a question.
But there's always life.