Every so often, beneath the daily routines and background noise, a quiet question rises: What’s this all for? Not in a dramatic, midlife-crisis kind of way—but in those still moments, when something in us wants life to be more than just the next deadline or the next chore.
We all wrestle with it. The search for meaning isn’t a one-time event. It’s a slow unfolding—a journey that looks different for each of us. Some days it feels clear. Other days it’s like walking through fog with no map.
But what if meaning isn’t something we have to chase down or earn? What if it’s something that grows within us, slowly, through the way we choose to live, pay attention, and care?
That’s what this reflection is about—a gentle invitation to turn inward and consider the meaning that may already be taking shape in your life, right where you are.
Letting Go of the Big Answer
We’re often taught that meaning comes in dramatic, movie-worthy moments—a big break, a perfect calling, a thunderous kind of clarity. So, we wait for it. We chase it. And when it doesn’t show up in flashing lights, we wonder if we somehow missed our chance.
But maybe meaning isn’t about big answers. Maybe it’s about small truths that we choose to honor each day.
Viktor Frankl, who survived the unimaginable during the Holocaust, once said, “He who has a why to live can bear almost any how.” That “why” doesn’t need to be impressive. It just needs to be yours. A thread of purpose that can hold your heart together when everything else feels like it’s coming apart.
When people talk about what gives their life meaning, their answers are rarely what you’d expect. It’s not the title on their business card or how many people follow them online. It’s the quiet stuff—being there for a friend, creating something beautiful, caring deeply about something that matters to them.
Meaning tends to live in the background. It’s rarely loud. More like a soft hum that tells you, this is right, this is you.
You don’t have to go chasing it down. Just pay attention to what lights you up, even a little. That’s usually a good place to start.
Pain as a Doorway
There’s something about suffering that sharpens our sense of what matters. I don’t mean to romanticize pain—no one wants it, and it’s never fair. But some of the most grounded, meaningful lives I know have come through fire.
People who’ve been wounded and still show up with open hearts. Who’ve been through loss and now carry the kind of empathy that feels like medicine.
Pain can close us off—or it can open us to a kind of purpose that’s more honest, more tender. Not in spite of the pain, but because of it./
Beauty happens everyday. Some seasons feel dull, directionless, like we’re just going through the motions. It's tempting to think we’re off track. But what if those seasons are actually invitations to pay closer attention?
Meaning doesn’t always show up with confetti. Sometimes it’s in the third time you reread your kid their favorite book. Or the way you hold space for someone who doesn’t even have the words yet. Or how you keep choosing love—quietly, consistently—even when no one sees it.
That’s the real stuff. The kind that doesn’t post well, but sticks with you.
A Few Questions for the Journey
If things feel foggy right now—or you're just trying to find your footing—here are a few questions that might help:
What do I keep caring about, even when it’s hard?
When do I feel most at peace in my own skin?
What pain has shaped how I show up in the world?
What do I want my life to whisper to those around me?
Meaning isn't a finish line. It's not waiting at the end of some self-help checklist. It shows up in how you live, love, rest, grieve, forgive. It’s in the slow becoming.
Sometimes it asks us to stay with the questions a little longer, to stop rushing toward answers, and just be honest about where we are.
So whether you’re in the thick of figuring things out or just trying to make it through the week, know this: your life matters. Not because of how loud or shiny it is—but because it’s yours. Honest, human, unfolding one day at a time.
Meaning is already inside you. The work is simply to live it.
Thrive!
Thank you for this...so accurate and beautifully put. Meaning really does feel like that quiet hum, trusting the intuition within
Thank you for this. Meaning doesn't come with the aesthetics of life, but it makes us feel at peace and loved, and many times, fulfilled