Finding Purpose: Lessons from a Murmuration

Arthur Shopenhauer was a German philosopher best known for his 1818 treatise The World as Will and Representation, in which he posited, in short, that the world around us does not exist in itself, but is rather only a representation of the way we each subjectively experience it. Any objective reality, such that it exists, can never be witnessed or experienced by humankind due to the subjective nature of consciousness. Writing recently in The Atlantic, Arthur C. Brooks, host of the How to Build a Happy Life podcast, argues that while Schopenhauer’s grand thesis may be what made his name, it is his other, lesser-known works which harbour greater wisdoms that we should each be incorporating into our day-to-day lives, especially if we are on the verge of undertaking a large, daunting project. Brooks says Schopenhaur’s work “offered rules for living that stand up remarkably well when compared with the findings of modern research; they provide what has come, for me, to be the best guidelines for doing the big thing” [1]. By the big thing, Brooks refers to writing a book, running a marathon, learning to play piano, or any other such task that requires endurance and discipline. The core arguments Schopenhauer made that Brooks champions are: embracing mindfulness, thinking of the big picture, living day-by-day, and blocking out external noise. By undertaking these practices, promoted by Schopenhauer in the middle of the 19th century, one can have a better relationship with their work today.

It’s not who you are underneath, it’s what you do that defines you. Batman said it so it must be true. (Technically it was said to him first then made a running motif of the film’s core theme, but we may be splitting hairs.) What we do does define us. Look no further than the first question directed your way by any small talk specialist at a party: what do you do? The question has a more pronounced meaning than simply what is your career. It’s designed to get a sense of what that profession says about you – your class, education, status, salary. The most popular surname in Germany and Switzerland is Müller, meaning miller. In Slovakia, it’s Varga, the word for cobbler. In the UK, Australia, New Zealand, Canada and the US, it’s Smith, due to the word’s attachment to a variety of once common trades such as blacksmith and locksmith [1]. Your work, then, used to be your literal identity. In purely nominative terms, that has changed. We do not live amongst Wayne Footballer, Elon Disruptor or Donald Moron. But in terms of social function, our profession is still the definitive modus of identification, at least on first glance. In today’s world, unlike in Batman’s, our job is both what we do and indicative of who we are underneath.

Consider a simple yet profound question: What does your work mean to you? Is it merely a task to be completed, or does it resonate with a deeper purpose in your life? Viktor Frankl, a prominent Austrian psychiatrist and philosopher, grappled with these very questions, evolving them into a broader exploration of life’s meaning. Drawing from his harrowing experiences in Nazi concentration camps, he developed logotherapy—a form of psychotherapy that centres around the search for meaning and purpose. Through logotherapy, Frankl illuminated the idea that life’s essence can be found not just in joyous moments but also in love, work, and our attitude towards inevitable suffering. This pioneering approach underscores personal responsibility and has offered countless individuals a renewed perspective on fulfilment, even in the face of daunting challenges. In this piece, we delve into the intricacies of Frankl’s teachings, exploring the symbiotic relationship he identified between work and our quest for meaning.