I had the chance to revisit my younger self the other day when I watched François Ozon’s adaptation of Albert Camus’ classic L’Étranger. The film – titled The Stranger rather than my preferred translation, The Outsider – brought back memories of my teenage years and the existential angst of trying to find meaning in life.

I found the black-and-white film to be an excellent adaptation of the book, diverging only slightly from the original. Ozon himself explained in an interview that he wanted to make the film in order to better understand the novel. He certainly achieved that for me as well.

Camus grapples with the notion of the absurd: the tension between humanity’s natural desire for meaning, order, morality and explanation, in a universe that offers none of those things.

Strangely, the message seems to be that rather than leading to despair, accepting this reality can be liberating. Once we stop demanding meaning from the universe, we are free to inhabit reality as it is.

This reinforced for me that the real question is not whether life has meaning. Rather, what truly matters is how one conducts his/her life in the absence of it.

Indeed, I have wrestled with that question for a long time. The best answer I have found came a few years ago while attending my daughter’s university graduation. The guest speaker addressed the graduates and tried to pass on some lessons from his own life. His advice on how to lead the life unfolding before them was to focus on three things: strong relationships, good health and meaningful work – in that order.

Strong relationships came first on the list.

Having a network of close friends is increasingly recognised as one of the foundations of a happy life. What matters most are bonds that are genuine and meaningful.

I thought about that recently while watching Stephen Colbert’s final episode of The Late Show on CBS. As many readers will know, CBS cancelled the programme after 33 years – first under David Letterman and, for the last 11 years, under Colbert. Although CBS cited financial reasons for the cancellation, many suspected that Colbert’s relentless mockery of Donald Trump conflicted with the network’s desire to maintain good relations with the administration during an important acquisition process.

Colbert handled the cancellation with admirable grace, avoiding recriminations or bitterness. During the final show, he was asked to answer the “Colbert Questionnaire”, a ritual many of his guests had gone through over the years. The final question was: “Describe your years ahead in five words.”

After pausing for a few seconds, he answered:

“My family, my friends, fun.”

It was a succinct reminder of the importance of relationships in life.

Good health comes second on the list – a point so self-evident that I will not dwell on it here.

Meaningful work, on the other hand, is a more ambiguous concept, one that can take many forms. Even 22 men chasing a football across a field can provide meaning, as Arsenal demonstrated the other week.

The outpouring of emotion from supporters around the world was on full display after the Gunners won the English Premier League, ending a 22-year wait for the title. In bringing joy to thousands of fans, the players undoubtedly provided a kind of meaning and shared experience. At the time of writing, last night’s Champions League final has not yet taken place, and unlike the reader today, I have no idea about the result – leaving me in something of a twilight zone.

Regardless of that result however, Arsenal’s celebrations after winning the league showed how sport can unite people. Race, ethnicity, religion, gender and sexuality were all set aside in a giant collective celebration.

The beauty of sport is that, unlike many other tribal divisions, it always offers another chance next season. The joy Arsenal supporters feel today is the joy of someone else tomorrow. More importantly, without Manchester United, Liverpool, Chelsea – and, dare I say it, Tottenham Hotspur – there would be no triumph to celebrate in the first place.

This is a prime example of how, in life as in sport, we are all bound together. The English Premier League – arguably the most successful football competition in the world – has understood this better than most. It is one of the few major leagues that distributes television revenue relatively evenly among its clubs, recognising that even the smaller teams play an essential role in the success of the bigger ones.

There is perhaps a wider lesson here about how to treat inequality, but I will leave that for another day.

Instead, I want to say goodbye to a good friend from the Cypriot football world who left us too soon the other day.

Phivos Constantinides was not a footballer himself, but as general manager of the GSP stadium in Nicosia, he played an influential role in many aspects of the game. His laughter and outgoing character helped bring together representatives from rival clubs in pursuit of common goals, despite being a devoted supporter of his beloved Apoel.

That is as fitting a testament as any with which to bid him farewell.