What do you do?
By Miriam
Art by Chema Mendez.
What do you do when you don’t know how or why to go on? What do you do when you’re not sure what the meaning of all of this is? What do you do when it all feels … pointless? Without any meaning at all?
I was at this point — questioning what the meaning of everything was, of the meaning of my very existence, and the point of my being here if everything was meaningless — very recently.
Yes, me — the person who has been writing some of the inspirational/motivational/hopeful posts here. We are all human, and sometimes we have days — weeks, months, sometimes years — where things just feel so. very. heavy.
Now, these thoughts — about Meaning, my existence — aren’t new to me; I’ve had thoughts like these since I was a teenager (over 15 years ago). The difference is, this time, I have a lot of other things on my mind: my financial situation (which includes a lot of debt), my current job — and how I’ve hit the point of burnout, my living situation that I want very badly to change, my lack of a romantic relationship (which I want), my physique (I want to lose weight), and just … how where I’m at in my life right now is not where I had hoped I’d be. (It also doesn’t help that I often, and just impulsively, compare myself to other people who “have it made.”)
(Have I already written a post similar to this? I hope not. But also, if I have, that just goes to show the human-ness of, well, this Human Experience — that we “arrive,” only to arrive seemingly again, and again, and again.)
Not gonna lie to you — I was in a deep, dark, almost-hopeless place.
I wasn’t sure how I’d get out, or when the heaviness and hopelessness and not-seeing-the-point-in-any-of-this would pass. (If it did.) I was hoping for someone or something to get me out of it, to yank me out and make everything feel better again. No one, and nothing, did.
At one point, I was lying on my bed, thinking about utterly meaningless all of This is, when I had a tiny thought come to me, as if it was blooming within me — like a small flower emerging from a crack in the sidewalk: the meaning in anything comes from the meaning we give to it. And for some reason, although I’ve had this thought before years ago, this time it felt so simple, yet so profound. Like a beam of light shining through the dark room of my mind.
Art of Chema Mendez.
Everything that we do — we give a sense of meaning, or purpose, to. And that in itself is enough.
And frankly, our time here on Earth is a tiny blip in the totality of Time, so why not give meaning to what we do? Why not live and strive to do and be what brings you joy and love and peace and fulfillment, and spread those things to others, too? Why not just … experience it all, while we can?
It’s worth it.
As we all are.
But what if . . .
I will say, though, that there are times when we just can’t seem to find, or create, any meaning. Try as we might, we can’t. (I’ve been there.)
So, what do we do then?
Art of Chema Mendez.
This certainly isn’t a blanket “prescription,” as I know we are all different and have access to different things, but here are some things that helped me:
Physical movement — this is probably the biggest one. I tend to be in my head a lot, following the paths of thoughts that seem to web out from each other without end, so moving my body — whether it be through jumping jacks, talking a walk outside, walking up and down the stairs, doing some YouTube workout videos or silly dance moves — helps me get out of my head. It helps ground me.
Reaching out to someone I trust and feel (emotionally, physically) safe with — for me, this has always been friends (specific friends). I usually keep things to myself, especially when I’m struggling mentally/emotionally, so it’s really tough for me to reach out. (I’m the “nurturer” in my relationships usually, the “mama bear,” so I don’t feel comfortable reaching out for help — but that’s for a different post.) But when I do, it usually helps. Just to talk to someone, to have someone listen. And sometimes it’s not even the venting that helps the most, but that someone stays. That someone chooses to be with me, as I navigate through something. So whether it’s your friend, grandma, coach, teacher, or a warmline or crisis line, reaching out can be really helpful. You can always reach out to us, too.
Being a part of something bigger than myself — for me, this means joining a group, like volunteering with an organization, but it could be something else, too. Perhaps it may be joining a faith-based group, for you. Or a shared-interests group, like philosophy or video games. Even if you’re not a part of an official group, you could do something because you know it has a big impact on not just you, but the world. Or, your neighborhood. You could vow to spend Saturday mornings picking up trash, comment on people’s reels/posts/videos (on any social media platform) an encouraging message because it’ll brighten their day — especially if they don’t have a lot of views, or fold cute origami animals or something and put them in random places around your city for people to stumble upon. Or paint rocks (with eco-friendly paint) into animals, kind words, or a beautiful sunset, and put those in random places around the city/your town/your neighborhood. Or find or create a neighborhood library box (“Free Little Library”) and place books inside them, and watch as others do the same. Or, maybe get some bird seed and feed the birds that frequent your home. Whatever sparks joy in you and also connects you to something bigger than you.
Being out in nature — this is vital to me. Going for a walk beneath trees, smelling a rose that I pass by, appreciating the singing of birds, watching the clouds go by, standing on the beach with the ocean up to my ankles … whatever bit of nature and just being outside I can get, it nourishes me so much.
I’m not saying that these things will suddenly give you a jolt of meaning, but they certainly can help move us out of heaviness, which can then make it easier to breathe and to find lightness in mind, body, and spirit.