A flower is much more beautiful than the function it performs actually requires it to be. Merely attracting bugs and spreading its seed doesn’t require roses to display the richness and variety of colors and fragrances it produces. So if life had meaning, it wouldn’t need to go overboard with so much beauty, it’s simply enough for everything to serve its purpose in one big biological dance of birth, reproduction, and death.
Life is in and of itself. The human mind assigns whatever meaning makes sense to it at the time. Some people don’t even think about it, they just go through every day on the level of the insects: Running around, feeding and expelling food, driven by instincts they never examine or question,. Other people put a religious spin on the meaning of life. God has set out a path for our estrangement and reunion with Him and that is enough for them to know.
Some people think that because there is no meaning it’s all a big, horrible joke, that inevitably ends in disease and death. This is because the human mind demands a story. It wants a neat little beginning , middle, and end. It must assign a purpose to everything so it can feel in control of something that is way beyond its grasp. But to know that life just is, is very freeing. We can sit back and admire its beauty, ingenuity, and perfection without demanding that it stands for something else.