Our Quest for Meaning
It’s a big question — the kind that sneaks up on you in the shower, at 2am, or somewhere between your third coffee and your fifteenth email of the day:
What is the meaning of life?
I’m fond of the theologian and philosopher Thomas Moore’s take on this. He suggests that our fundamental anxiety isn’t relieved by finding the meaning of life, but by living a meaningful one. In other words, it’s less a treasure hunt (no map, no X, no satisfying final reveal) and more a way of inhabiting your life.
A meaningful life begins, quite simply, when we feel safe and connected — to ourselves, to others, and to the world around us. When those conditions are present, life reveals its integrity, its soul… and its surprising capacity to enchant. (Yes, enchantment is still allowed in adulthood. It didn’t expire at age ten.)
Long before therapy rooms existed, Socrates famously declared:
“The unexamined life is not worth living.”
He wasn’t suggesting we endlessly analyse ourselves or spiral into self-criticism (thankfully — the world does not need more people overthinking their personality flaws at 3am). He was pointing to something far more alive: ongoing inquiry. Questioning assumptions. Testing what we believe to be true. Living in alignment with our deeper values — and our truer self.
Here’s the honest part, from the therapy chair.
Most people have never undertaken deep self-inquiry. Not really. And yet it is one of the most powerful ways to rediscover meaning. Neuroscience tells us that we are driven up to 95% of the time by subconscious programming — which means many of our decisions, reactions, relationships, and even our sense of what’s possible are being shaped by beliefs we didn’t consciously choose… and may not even know we have.
Life, inconveniently, tends to mirror those beliefs right back to us. (Often with impressive consistency.)
Therapy isn’t about “fixing” you. It’s about turning toward those patterns with curiosity instead of avoidance. It’s about taking the don’t-look-away kind of look — with support, and ideally without self-flagellation.
Another truth I see every day: most people have never felt completely safe in their bodies. Ever. They might think they have, but their nervous system tells a different story. The body responds not to our best intentions, positive affirmations, or well-crafted to-do lists — but to our subconscious history and our capacity to be fully present.
When we don’t feel safe, even nature can feel threatening. So we tame it. Flatten it. Make it predictable and manageable. We do the same with ourselves. Our environments become uniform, our lives overly managed, our inner worlds a little grey. In the process, we lose touch with the parts of us that are mystical, imaginative, dreamlike, and soulful. When we feel unsafe, we misinterpret, misperceive, misunderstand, see threats where they don’t exist — including ourselves.
Therapy can help bring you back.
To be enchanted by life again doesn’t require becoming someone new. It’s a reconnection with what has always been there — beneath the layers of coping, conditioning, and “shoulds.” It’s about reclaiming desires and longings that may have been quietly squashed by well-meaning parents, education systems, religious frameworks, or cultural expectations (many of whom genuinely thought they were being helpful).
When the wildness of nature feels unsafe, the wildness of our own desires can also feel wrong, shameful, or dangerous. Many of us carry an old internal rulebook that says:
It’s not okay to have needs
It’s certainly not okay to express them
And if you do get what you want… something bad will happen
Most people can find examples of this if they pause long enough — usually right after saying, “I don’t really need much.”
This isn’t an argument against boundaries — boundaries matter. They protect us and others. But healthy boundaries support our right to have needs and desires, not erase them.
Therapy, at its best, helps remove the internal obstacles blocking your access to meaning, vitality, and aliveness. Not by adding something new, but by gently getting out of the way of what no longer serves you.
Meaning isn’t something you chase.
It’s something that emerges when you feel safe enough to be fully alive.
And if you’re reading this thinking, “Yes… but also I’m exhausted, stuck in familiar loops, and would like a little help,” you’re not alone. Therapy isn’t about endlessly talking about your childhood or lying on a couch having revelations on demand (though insights do happen). It’s a practical, relational space to gently unwind old patterns, befriend your nervous system, and make room for more meaning, vitality, and enchantment in everyday life.
If something here has stirred your curiosity — or felt uncomfortably familiar — you’re welcome to reach out. Sometimes the most meaningful shift begins not with having answers, but with being willing to ask better questions… with support.
