"The purpose of life is to live." Or, "there are a million paths in life and they all lead nowhere. Choose a path that has a heart."
The answer to every question lies in why you ask. Who seeks the meaning of life and why. We have questions because we feel something, no? Perhaps there is some curiosity or speculation that things are not complete. Perhaps it's a feeling of separation, nostalgia, sadness, or loss. What is the purpose of life? Is this all there is? What is my heart's desire? Why am I here?
Who asks these questions? From where do they come? In some mystical traditions man is likened to a flute cut from a reedy bed. It laments its separation in song. Sometimes it is the story of a raindrop's journey to the sea. But what is this separation? Is it possible that the seeker, the experiencer of separation is thought, a fragment of our totality yearning to comprehend the whole? But how can a fragment see itself as a whole? The eye can't see itself. Is the question of the meaning of life a question raised by thought? Is not the question itself the separation? Is not the fact of the question the source of the question, the reason for our separation. We identify with our thought, no? But thought is a fragment of a whole. A fragment is a fragment. Only the whole can be. How does a fragment let go of the illusion that it is the important thing so that the soul can enter into being? How can we die so that what we are can be? In Islam it comes through surrender to the will of God. In Christianity it comes through the grace given by Christ's mercy and surrogate payment of debt. For the fakir it is a bed of nails, and the yogi pierces the veil though the force of focused mind. There are many ways that open out on life.