Man's Search for Meaning

This post aims to highlight the revolutionary ideas of Dr Viktor Frankl. This inspirational psychiatrist and true hero of our times, was a survivor of the Nazi concentration camps, and shared his horrific experience and his methods of surviving it in the amazing work ‘Man’s Search for Meaning’.

In this slim volume, Dr Frankl describes in graphic detail, the atrocities that he and his fellows had to endure, and offers extremely powerful methods for how the human psyche is able to cope and indeed thrive under such conditions. He provides important insights into man’s dignity, freedom and meaning; insights that we should all take heed from and try to incorporate into our lives.

Dr Frankl’s key idea was coined by the term logotherapy, an alternative to traditional psychotherapy which focuses on the outer rather than the inner. Logotherapy states that man’s primary concern is his will to meaning, rather than the fulfilment of drives and instincts also known as the pleasure principal and the power principal. Instead, man’s purpose in life is to find meaning in every moment.

In order for man to live his life with a much meaning as possible, Frankl argues that we must be fully responsible for that life. Each man has his own particular mission that he has to fullfill. His life cannot be replaced nor replicated. It is unique. He argues that man is questioned by life, and can only answer by answering for his own life. He therefore can only respond to life by being responsible and actualise the meaning within it.

There are three ways to actualise this meaning. By achievement or accomplishment, by experiencing something (beauty, goodness) or someone (love), and by the attitude we take to unavoidable suffering.

Frankl gives a number of examples, written with outstanding humility, of how he and his fellows were able to actualise meaning in their lives in the above three ways. One particularly poignant part for me was how he described picturing and holding conversations in his head with his wife. His imaginations filled his heart with the love that he felt for his wife, and allowed him to endure working in sub zero temperatures, exhausted, malnourished, with next to no clothing on, and in extreme pain. His daydreams took him to a happy place, where he was able to escape albeit for the briefest of moments, from the torment of reality. He suggests that these moments of reprieve allowed him to continue, and combined with the hope of realising them, gave his life meaning and the will to survive.

This is the second time that I have read this book, and I shall probably do so again and again. You cannot fail to be awed by this man’s strength and generosity. His account of his time in the concentration camps is both horrific and inspiring, primarily because there is not an ounce of self pity in his writing. He is writing to share, to help others deal with their own silly neuroses. He isn’t doing it to boast, but to genuinely offer something back to the community. He has actualised his meaning. Everything he went through was worth it, because now he can use his experiences to help others.

I wish I could take copies of this book and shove them down the throats of my family members, each and every dam one of them. Whilst they would gain nothing from his psychological theories (that would involve using brain cells), it might make them realise that their petty little problems really do not compare with true suffering that has gone on in this world.

Frankl’s ideas have become a mainstay for me at the moment. The familial situation has reached a point where it has become starkly clear to me (yet again, but hey we like flogging a dead horse don’t we) that my existence means next to nothing to my blood relatives. I do not exist as a person with feelings, emotions, desires or needs. I exist purely to serve. If I do not serve in the correct manner, then I am discarded. Even if I do serve in the correct manner, I am discarded should another more pressing need (most notably the need to hurt another family relative) arise.

Families often help us actualise our will meaning. We overcome hardships, we face trials head on, we survive because of our families. Because we don’t want to hurt them, we don’t want to leave them behind, we want to make them proud. It is no secret that I am defined by my lack of relevance to my family. I also have very few friends, certainly none who would notice my absence. The one person in my life who allows me to actualise my will to meaning has a close and loving family, and so I therefore view my link even with him as tenacious. The knowledge that without him I am nothing, yet he has a place without me, is a heavy burden at the best of times.

I therefore have to look for meaning primarily in other places. I manage this sometimes, but not always. It is my main struggle, to extricate myself from the concept that without acceptance and acknowledgement from others I do not have meaning. My main source of soul food is to sit outside and feel the sun, wind, rain, whatever Gaia happens to be doing at the time. I find that you cannot but admit life is worth giving your best shot when listening to a robin sing or feeling the sun warming your skin. I also try to view my situation as positively as possible. I know that I can stop myself feeling bad, I do it all the time. Problem is, it gets tiring sometimes, and I continue to look for a level of salvation that does not exist. I torture myself with people’s kind words, taking them to heart, expecting them to offer and be what I need them to be even though they do not know me nor know the extent of my pain. All that they offer, and all they can offer, are kind words.

I cannot actualise my will to meaning through others. I simply don’t think I am capable of it, I cannot have a 'normal' interaction with another person. I will always place others within the contextual framework of my upbringing and young adulthood, and so will always hurt myself and / or get myself hurt. But I can actualise meaning through action, accomplishment, experiencing something, and my attitude to my suffering. If Frankl could do it in Auschwitz, I’m sure that I can do it to.

I urge all of you to buy and absorb “Man’s Search for Meaning”. It is an amazing tale of survival, and offers all of us a way to improve our outlook and therefore our lives.