I think that Homo sapiens are at a strange and difficult point in our evolution, where we can conceive of questions that our brains are not evolved enough to comprehend the answers to. So the gap between our ability to think up big questions and our ability to answer them, is filled in with mythologies, religions, or ideas like 'life might have a meaning'. Without these things to fill the gaps, I think we'd go mad.
Since we can conceive of the idea that life could have meaning, it can be very difficult to accept the idea that it might not actually have one. It's like wrapping your brain around the concept of a soul, and then deciding that they don't exist and you don't have one. Experientially it can leave a person feeling empty. Magical thinking seems to be the glue that holds the disparate fragments of our understanding into a (hopefully) cohesive picture of reality. It can bridge the gap between the mysterious brain chemistry which makes up our emotional life, and our attempts at defining and understanding everything our senses report to us.
I think the longing for meaning is one more way we grapple with the general yearning to understand something beyond our native capacities. For instance: We know that we die, that everyone and every living thing eventually dies, and that alone leaves us staring into a void because the truth is, that's all we know. Everything else is speculation, it's all our brain's capacity to imagine without any data whatsoever. Take one step back and what we know is absolutely dwarfed by what we don't know. And how we face all that is unknown, whether it comes easily or with difficulty, informs every decision we make as much as what we think we know influences it.
Giving this life meaning helps the narrative create a picture of a structured and coherent world, so that either we or some greater being appear to have some control, some direction/intention/design, in this river of time we are navigating.
I spent decades trying to answer big questions, and ironically the closer I get to death, the less I know. Personally, I can't imagine an explanation for this world that has any semblance of a meaning inherently in it. My mind is too small, my brain too weak to conceive of a sentient being that would have intentionally created this world, and that the atrocities that occur daily are part of some greater meaning. It might exist, but it's beyond me. Given that limitation, I have to choose to believe that life has no inherent meaning, because the alternative is too absurd.
If giving it meaning emboldens us to be better people, to do the right thing, then I'm all for meaning. Make up your meaning, make it bold, and know full well you invented it because it helps direct and steady you. Just know its yours, and no one else's. Or not. I really don't know anything.