I went through an existential crisis a while ago. It's a pretty natural thing to experience, I believe, because of the predicament we, as organisms, find ourselves in: motivated for goals in an environment where goals don't ultimately matter. I think, deep down, that it's a great search that ultimately can bear fruits of wisdom and contentment. If the universe is purpose-less, then why do I create purpose? Why does it feel like it matters when cognitively I know that it doesn't? These questions point to the bigger question of "what am I?" What am I in this universe? What is my role? Great questions.
My search used to be more on the frantic and intellectual side. I would make conclusions like "life has no meaning" and then do whatever I wanted to do; it became a justification for living like a hedonist. Sloppy living, I'd call it. Nowadays I still ask those questions but I'm not as worried about not having meaning. I worry about self-improvement and self-intimacy, which is more the answer than the question, I s'pose. I'm a bit less intellectual about the process, probably because I've started to see the limits and dangers of living one's life through a philosophy -- sacrificing intimacy with one's feelings, body, and with one's surroundings.
Anyway, I'm no guru and I'm certainly not satisfied with where I am. Just thought I'd share a few thoughts on the subject.