There is a little book I treasure by Victor Frankl entitled Man’s Search for Meaning which boils down to people’s will to live while in a concentration camp, as he, Frankl did in Auschwitz. I must have read this book over 10 times since my dad gave it to me when I quit drinking, which was about 24 years ago. I should have it memorized by now, but not. It’s a reminder that somewhere, hidden inside of us, even under the direst of circumstances we can find a will to keep going and keep living not matter what.
Life doesn’t grant us all the same survival instincts or emotional strength to find that will to live. Our circumstances, DNA, and brains are wired differently to withstand painful situations, and while some of us are resilient enough to automatically have our survival instincts kick in, others have to work harder at it.
Finding meaning in an often meaningless world, for me comes down to sharing my life with friends and family. However, my job is what has always provided me the “meaning,” and will. When that passion has been removed, I’ve felt lost. However, I have learnt to pull myself through those times finding meaning even in the smallest things.
The will to live might sometimes leave us, but we can get it back.