What Makes Life Worth Living?

How many falling apples can you slice at once with a samurai sword? How long can you stand on an inflatable exercise ball? How many rotations can you do with a hula hoop nearly half a kilometer in diameter? How fast can you run a mile with a bottle of milk balanced on your head? How long would it take to cover a similar distance... on shovels? And most importantly: why do any of this at all? One man knows the answer to all of the above questions – Ashrita Furman, whose achievements have been recorded in the Guinness Book of Records over 600 times, which in itself... is also a record. The American pulled off his first historic feat back in the late 1970s, when he completed as many as 27,000 jumping jacks. From then on, he became completely fixated on setting increasingly absurd records. Over the next four decades, he broke them on each of the seven continents. On land, in water (and under it), and in the air. He was the first to open the most bottle caps with a chainsaw, walked the longest distance while doing somersaults, covered the most kilometers while balancing a pool cue on his finger, clapped non-stop for 50 hours, and smashed the most glass bottles on his head in 30 seconds.

Looking at this (very) short excerpt from Ashrita Furman’s list of achievements, one might get the impression that his feats are pure absurdity or the whim of a man who simply likes being the center of attention. Some may find it bizarre. Others will call it nonsense and a waste of time. Still others will shrug and say bluntly: “stupid and pointless.” But are we sure about that? Maybe meaning doesn’t always lie in what we commonly regard as “important and significant.” Maybe it’s not about meeting the world’s expectations but about finding an inner conviction that what we do means something to us. Because for Furman, all of it mattered – and that’s exactly why he spent years breaking records with such passion and determination. And if he was able to find value in what most people would consider grotesque, then maybe we, too, can find meaning in something that matters to us, even if others don’t recognize it. Is it possible that meaning doesn’t have to be logical to be real? Can the value of life be measured by a single standard, the same for everyone? Or maybe what seems utterly meaningless to some is, for others, a life worth living? So what is meaning, really – something generally considered beneficial, or something we create and assign ourselves? How is it that some people manage to find it even in underwater juggling or timed hat-throwing at a target (yes, those are Furman’s records too)?

To find meaning, you don’t have to be a hero or a philosopher

Furman’s records most often provoke a smile, sometimes surprise, and occasionally admiration for his perseverance and physical fitness. Rarely, however, are they taken seriously. Most people treat his achievements as a kind of unconventional hobby or a collection of curiosities that are hard to assign any deeper meaning to. Because we’re used to thinking that meaning—the “real, recognized, and serious” kind—should be something lofty. Something noble, ambitious, maybe even spiritual. Something that goes beyond everyday triviality and can’t be reduced to the number of balloons popped underwater or kilometers walked on shovels. In our culture, the meaning of life is often associated with something greater than ourselves—a mission, a legacy, sacrifice, achieving something worthy of admiration or at least social respect. But is that the only possible kind of meaning? There are people who make it their goal to start a family, build a house, become the best at what they do professionally, make a lot of money, or dedicate themselves to helping others selflessly. And all of that can be beautiful, profound, and genuine. But there are also those for whom the meaning of life is collecting old phone cards, forging replicas of historical swords in a backyard garage, or taking apart old watches just to put them back together again. 

If some people find fulfilment and give meaning to their lives through engaging in humanitarian missions in Africa, while others dress up as their favourite fictional characters, attend conventions, and take part in cosplay gatherings, then the question remains: does what we do really matter that much if we know why we’re doing it? Isn’t it true that the real value lies not in what we do, but in what it means to us – in how it makes us feel, what it leads to, and how it helps us tell our story? That’s the kind of question Viktor Frankl asked – and tried to answer. He was a psychiatrist who survived the hell of Auschwitz and later developed one of the most important psychological theories of the 20th century. Frankl observed that in the camp, it wasn’t the strongest or healthiest who survived, but those who were able to find meaning in their suffering. It could be people who wanted to see their child one more time. Or those who decided to preserve their dignity to the very end – even if that end seemed inevitable. Out of those experiences, logotherapy was born – an approach that argues it’s not the pursuit of pleasure or the avoidance of pain, but the search for meaning that is the primary driving force of human beings. Frankl didn’t claim that meaning had to be lofty or grand – on the contrary, he believed it could be deeply personal, even modest, as long as it gives us a sense of purpose and direction.

Viktor Frankl identified three main paths through which a person can find meaning in life – and none of them requires being a hero or a philosopher. The first is action – creating, working, engaging in something that gives a sense of agency. It might be raising a child, writing a book, but also baking the perfect loaf of bread or painting miniatures – what matters is that we do something that holds value for us. The second path is experience – going through something that moves us: love, awe in the face of nature, a deep connection with another person. Frankl emphasized that often it’s being with someone, not doing something, that gives life meaning. The third – and most demanding – is our attitude toward suffering, the ability to give meaning even to what is difficult and painful. If we cannot change a situation, we can change the way we experience it. This, according to Frankl, is the highest expression of human freedom – the ability to choose how we respond to what happens to us. All three paths described by Frankl – action, experience, and attitude toward suffering – share one common trait: they assume that meaning is not something we stumble upon by accident, like a lost key, but something we create – consciously, sometimes with effort, often despite circumstances. So maybe instead of asking, “Does my life have meaning?” we should be asking, “What can I do today to give my existence that meaning?” 

The meaning of life as a compass leading to happiness

For Frankl, the meaning of life gives us immense strength to survive even the most extreme situations. As Martin Seligman, the founder of positive psychology, shows, meaning can also be something that influences our sense of happiness and shapes our personal growth. His PERMA theory suggests that human well-being is built on five pillars – and one of them is precisely the meaning of life.

• Positive Emotions: experiencing joy, gratitude, calm, hope, curiosity, or a sense of safety.
• Engagement: being fully focused on an activity, minimizing distractions and interruptions during work.
• Relationships: building strong and stable connections with others, spending time with people, cooperating with them.
• Meaning: feeling that life has purpose and direction, finding meaning in everyday activities.
• Accomplishments: a sense of success and satisfaction with one’s achievements.

Seligman emphasizes that a good life is not just about avoiding suffering, but about actively building what gives us fulfilment. In this view, meaning means the sense that our life holds value beyond our personal experiences. It’s the feeling of being connected to something greater – a community, an idea, a value, a mission. Meaning doesn’t have to be lofty or heroic – what matters is that it’s authentic. Seligman argues that people who experience meaning cope better with adversity. They also report higher levels of life satisfaction and are less likely to suffer from depression. Meaning works like a compass – it sets a direction and helps maintain motivation. It’s also tied to a sense of purpose, the belief that our actions matter. Seligman doesn’t equate meaning with constant happiness. He believes it can accompany difficult experiences as well. In fact, it can change depending on the stage of life we’re in and our shifting priorities. Meaning can come from working for the good of others, but also from a personal passion. The key is the feeling that what we do has value – for ourselves. And if it happens to have value for the world too, all the better.

Finding the meaning of life doesn’t always come in the form of a sudden revelation. Most often, it’s a process that unfolds gradually, sometimes even unnoticed. But how do we know when we’ve found that meaning? According to Michael Steger and his concept of the four pillars, meaning is not a single, elusive phenomenon, but something grounded in four stable foundations. The first is belonging – the sense that we are part of something greater, that our life matters not just to ourselves. This could be family, a group of friends, a religious community, or a circle of enthusiasts. The second is purpose – the belief that our actions have direction and lead to something meaningful, even if that “something” is small and personal. The third pillar is coherence – the ability to make sense of our life story, in which the past, present, and future connect. And finally, values – living in accordance with what truly matters to us. Imagine a young woman who runs a small bookstore in a town where everyone knows each other. She feels like she belongs to the local community (belonging), organizes author events and children’s workshops because she believes books foster growth and empathy (purpose). Looking back, she sees that everything she’s done – her studies, her work in publishing, her love of literature – led her to this point (coherence). And she acts in line with her personal values – like independence, a desire to educate, and a passion for spreading culture. To an outsider, it might look like just a small business, but to her, it’s the meaning of life and a way of staying true to herself. 

What do we value most in life? 

And what does the meaning of life mean to each of us? Who or what gives it to us? What makes us find value in our existence? These are questions that usually require deeper reflection and don’t provoke easy or straightforward answers. It might seem like a highly subjective matter, but – as research shows – we often identify with values that hold importance for many people. In a study conducted by the Pew Research Center across 17 countries, participants were asked to indicate what defines their sense of meaning in life. The most common answer, mentioned by 38% of respondents, was family and children. For 25%, meaning came from careerand professional life. In third place was material well-being (19%). Respondents also pointed to things like friends and social life (18%), mental and physical health (17%), and hobbies or personal interests (10%). Interestingly, religion – so often associated with the meaning of life – ranked only second to last. The only less frequently mentioned answer was having pets.

The results of this global study largely align with a 2017 survey conducted in Poland by CBOS. The observations from eight years ago (as no newer research on this topic has been carried out since) likely don’t differ much from what respondents would emphasize today. When asked, “What is the most important thing in your life, what gives your life meaning?” the majority (54%) pointed to family – its well-being, harmony, and safety. 38% of respondents chose health, 14% mentioned having, raising, and educating children, 9% pointed to having a job and being satisfied with it, and 8% to money and material possessions. In this case, religious values ranked slightly higher in the list, surpassing, among others, love, honesty, education, or the good of the country. The results of both studies show that regardless of geographic location, people most often find meaning in universal values – such as family, health, relationships, or a sense of security. These fundamental, everyday aspects of life seem to be the most enduring sources of meaning, even in a world full of shifting ambitions and individual paths. 

Micro-meanings – small steps toward discovering life’s value

Some people believe that life only gains meaning when it’s accompanied by a great mission. That you must leave something lasting behind: write a book, build a company from scratch, change the world – and ideally achieve all of it before turning forty. But do we really need to aim that high to feel that our life has value? Does meaning have to be on a “global” scale to be real? More psychologists – and more ordinary people – are coming to the conclusion that not necessarily. Many contemporary studies show that it’s micro-meanings, the small everyday moments, that often have a greater impact on our sense of meaning than any single spectacular achievement. And it’s not about rejecting ambition – it’s about recognizing that the meaning of life can be hidden in seemingly invisible details we’ve ignored for years because they felt too ordinary or insignificant.

Research conducted by, among others, Emily Esfahani Smith, author of the book The Power of Meaning, shows that people who focus on everyday activities – like talking to a loved one, taking a walk at sunset, or helping a neighbour – report a higher sense of meaning in life than those who concentrate solely on big goals. Similar conclusions come from analyses published in the Journal of Positive Psychology, which suggest that it’s not extraordinary events, but the feeling of mindfulness and presence in simple activities that most often give people a sense of meaning. Cooking for someone, laughing with a child, reading a book – all of this has value, if we choose to see it. So maybe we don’t need a plan to conquer the world to feel that life is worth living and not slipping through our fingers. Maybe it’s enough to notice the small moments that everyday life offers us almost for free – and take them seriously. Because it’s from those moments, brick by brick, that something greater is built – something that, over time, we may come to see as the meaning of life.

In the context of everyday meaning, it’s worth mentioning two approaches that offer different perspectives on what gives life significance. The first is the so-called hedonic treadmill – a psychological phenomenon where, after achieving something we thought would make us happy (like a promotion, a new relationship, or a bigger apartment), we quickly return to our previous level of satisfaction. Our expectations grow along with our achievements, causing us to constantly chase the next “more” without pausing to appreciate what we already have. A completely different approach is offered by ikigai – a Japanese concept of life’s meaning based on the harmony between what we love, what we’re good at, what the world needs from us, and what we can be rewarded for. It’s not about chasing happiness, but about a calm, daily rootedness in what gives us a sense of purpose – without the pressure of great achievements, but in alignment with what we love and what we’re capable of.

Does being happy require setting goals?

In conversations about happiness and the meaning of life, we often lump together two different things: the so-called micro-meanings and goals. Sometimes, we confuse small daily moments – like talking to a loved one or taking a walk after work – with something that requires planning, ambition, and execution. But these two experiences function differently. Micro-meanings work here and now, are immediately accessible, and don’t require a long-term strategy. Goals, on the other hand, are long-term and directional – they give us the sense that life is moving somewhere. That doesn’t mean one excludes the other. But sometimes we expect a goal to bring us happiness we haven’t been able to find in everyday life for years. Or the opposite – we neglect our bigger dreams because we’ve convinced ourselves that a few pleasant moments each day are enough to feel fulfilled. Both elements can complement each other, but the key lies in understanding their differences. Setting goals can help build happiness, but it is not a requirement for it.

Research shows that people who feel their actions serve something greater than themselves – family, community, an idea – are less likely to experience emptiness or burnout. That’s why the meaning of life is increasingly seen as a foundation of happiness, not just a side effect of it. In this view, goals serve as “carriers of meaning” – tools that help us put meaning into action. You can compare it to the difference between climbing any mountain just to reach the top and climbing one that holds personal significance. In the first case, once you descend, you’re left with satisfaction – but also the question: “what now?” In the second, you’re left with the feeling that it was truly worth it. That’s how the relationship between goals and meaning works: it’s not the number or size of the goals that determines happiness, but how well they align with what truly matters to us.

How to search for meaning… meaningfully?

The meaning of life often feels like a grand, abstract idea, and when we think about searching for it – with movie or TV scenes flashing before our eyes – we imagine meditating on a beach at sunset or contemplating life in a Himalayan monastery. Neither of those things will hurt, of course, but there are simpler ways to build a deeper sense of meaning in everything we deal with on a daily basis. So where to begin?

• Instead of big questions, ask yourself small ones – not “what is the meaning of my life?” but “what mattered to me today?”
• Keep a meaning journal – write down one moment, situation, or experience each day that gave you a sense of meaning – even if it was just a neighbour’s smile or the smell of coffee.
• Act in alignment with your values – do small things that feel true to who you are – help, create, learn, pay attention. They don’t need to be spectacular to be meaningful.
• Surround yourself with people who inspire you and with whom you can be yourself – closeness, conversations, and relationships are among the most stable sources of life’s meaning.
• Make room in your life for silence and reflection – sometimes the most important answers come in moments of peace – but you have to give them space to appear.
• Accept the changing nature of meaning – it can shift depending on the stage of life you’re in – and that’s okay.
• Look for micro-meanings in everyday life – cooking, talking, walking, caring for plants – if you do it mindfully and with intention, it can be a source of meaning. 

Even though these steps may seem simple, the path to finding meaning is often bumpy. Especially in difficult and seemingly hopeless moments. In the song Jestem Bogiem by Paktofonika, there’s a line that goes: “in meaninglessness, meaning is the only promotion.” In moments when life loses its meaning and everything feels pointless, the only “promotion” – the way out of that state – is to find even a fragment of meaning. It’s meaning that allows us to rise above chaos and give suffering a sense of direction. Searching for it requires mindfulness and a willingness to truly look at our own life. Patience is needed – because meaning doesn’t always show up right away. We also need to learn how to appreciate ourselves and what we already have, instead of constantly focusing on what’s missing. We need courage to ask ourselves honest questions, and openness to accept answers that might surprise us. But it’s precisely from these small, often unremarkable moments that a life worth living is born. And once we realize that we should give ourselves a pat on the back and a round of applause. Though maybe not – following Ashrita Furman’s example – for 50 hours straight.