Life Is Unfair: A Guide to Existential Meaning

This really is unfair.

I spent last year working on myself—figuring out how to relax, how to unhook from things that were bothering me. I read The Happiness Trap and Feeling Great, and I was well on my way to cleaning up the issues in my life.

But now that things are cleaned up, I have a big problem—one that everyone has to deal with at some level—the existential question of, “What should I be doing with my life?”

Jean-Paul Sartre wrote that we are “condemned to freedom.” It’s a quote that seems a bit glib—the kind of thing an aloof Frenchman in post-WWII Paris would use to pick up women in a cafe. But it’s an incredibly powerful idea.

We normally think of freedom as a blessing. We live in the USA. Freedom is our birthright—as American as mom and apple pie. But we tend to view freedom as pushing back the things that we don’t want to do. However, freedom also means we have to decide and be responsible for the life that we lead.

And that’s terrifying.

As I tried to answer this question, I’ve discovered that there are three levels of the answer, each one more abstract and fundamental.

Level One: Big E Existential—The Goals That Give Life Direction

This is what we normally think of when we think of existential questions. Am I accomplishing the things I want to accomplish? Am I doing things that really matter in the long term?

I like to use the model from Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT). In ACT, the answer is simple: figure out what you want to do and then spend your time doing it.

I use a Bullet Journal for this.

It gives me a simple way to plan for the future and make sure I stay on track, making sure that I’m spending my time on things that matter.

It also helps me understand that I’ve used my time well and done things that are aligned with my values. You see, I have an awful memory. Without my Bullet Journal, when I look back and think about last week, I often can’t remember what I did. I’ll feel this existential void like I hadn’t done anything at all. And when I feel like I haven’t done anything that matters, I panic and overcorrect. I hyperfocus on some new project or goal. I feel like I need to fill this huge emptiness with something bigger, something important. But this whipsawing between projects means that I accomplish even less—leading to a vicious circle where I actually am getting less done. With my Bullet Journal I have an accurate accounting of what I’ve done and see if I’m living my goals. If not, I can just slowly adjust and point back at my goals.

But here’s what I discovered: even when my Bullet Journal showed me I was accomplishing my goals, something still felt missing. That’s when I started to understand the second level.

Level Two: small e existential—The Moments That Make Us Real

There’s another type of existential meaning that’s just as important but harder to pin down. It’s about being seen. It’s about the small moments each and every day where someone recognizes who you really are. It’s about existential validation—that feeling of truly being seen because someone recognizes the authentic you.

I learned this from someone on my team—actually a combination of people on my team over the years. Let’s call them Jamie. Jamie was very competent but since graduating from college a decade ago, they’d never been given a chance to grow, leaving them with a feeling that they weren’t good enough. They even told me they wanted to work on their self-confidence.

At our first team meeting they introduced themselves. “Hi, I’m Jamie,” they said, in a monotone voice. “I’ve been at the company for 5 years. And well, that’s about it.” They finished quickly because they didn’t want to waste other people’s time—because they’d been trained that they weren’t important.

So I worked with them—starting with that introduction they made. It’s a short little speech but it sets the tone of how other people will think of you. I had them practice it at the beginning of each 1:1 meeting we had. I did my own intro as an example.

They quickly started to get it. They started to own their story, be proud of themselves, and the work they did. They stopped looking like a shrinking violet and blossomed into a beautiful flower.

After a few months, they wrote, “Thank you so much for working with me on my self-confidence. Your support, not just one time but over many meetings, made a significant difference for me, both professionally and personally. You really listen to me and tailor your guidance to what I really need. You don’t understand how rare that is in a manager—at least in my experience. I’m so privileged that I can share my problems with you, knowing that you’ll come back with solutions that will really help me out.”

Watching Jamie transform taught me something about myself. All my carefully tracked goals couldn’t compare with that moment of genuine connection. When Jamie looked up from the practiced introduction with such pride—I’d made a ding in the universe.

But even this wasn’t the full picture. Because to truly be present in those moments—to really see Jamie and be seen in return—required something deeper.

Level Three: The Self Underneath It All

All of this comes back to an idea that’s part of many traditions—that there’s a true transcendental existence underneath everything else. Ralph Waldo Emerson talked about this as transcendentalism, this idea of touching something deeper in yourself. Julia Cameron, in The Artist’s Way, calls it “The Creator.” Religions call it a soul.

The point is, there’s something inside people that’s bigger than us. It’s really hard to explain cognitively, but you know it when you feel it. It’s the difference between going through the motions of life and actually living life.

ACT therapy calls it “the self” or “self-as-context.” It’s the underlying you that’s really there. So in ACT, you’re not anxious, you’re noticing the feeling of anxiety. You don’t feel like a failure, you’re noticing the feeling of shame and sadness that you didn’t accomplish something. That true you is always underneath, always there noticing the things that happen in your life and making decisions about it.

Here’s what I’ve learned: this deeper awareness—the ability to step back and notice what’s happening—creates the space where I can make the right decisions. Without it, my Bullet Journal becomes list of To Do’s and mentoring others becomes a task I should do for my annual review. But when I’m grounded in that self that notices, I have room to choose. I can decide to do things that align with my values as opposed to just respond to my anxiety. I can genuinely connect with the true self of other people. That space—that pause between noticing and reacting—is what makes the other two levels of meaning possible.

But when I’m grounded in that deeper self—the one that’s just noticing—everything changes. I can look at my journal without judgment. I can be with Jamie without trying to fix anything. I can just be present with what is.

You can try this for yourself, if you know how to meditate. Try meditating and noticing some things. Then ask yourself “Who is doing the noticing?” It’s quite an experience if you can get it right.

This may seem clinical and exhausting, but it’s actually the opposite. It allows you to be truly present in the moment. This is the only way to not be buffeted by the outside world and do things that you think are important to you.

So here’s what I’ve learned: existential meaning isn’t one thing. My Bullet Journal gives my life direction. Those moments with Jamie remind me I’m not alone. And that deeper awareness—the self that notices—makes both of those work without turning goals into obsessions or connections into performances. The easy thing is to avoid the question entirely, to let other people’s goals fill the void. The harder thing—the thing I’m still learning—is to live on all three levels at once.

Sartre said we are “condemned to freedom.” We are condemned to responsibility and making choices. Albert Camus had a different take on existential suffering—that it’s all futile. In The Myth of Sisyphus, he wrote about the Greek king condemned by the gods to roll a boulder up a hill for eternity—only to watch it roll back down each time he reached the top. But Camus concluded, “One must imagine Sisyphus happy.” Even though Sisyphus was condemned to never achieving his goal, he didn’t have to be unhappy. He could find meaning in the struggle itself. That’s what these three levels give us—ways to create our own meaning through the goals we pursue, the moments we’re seen, and the self that does the noticing. It’s still unfair that I had to figure this out. But at least now I have a map.hat I had to figure this out. But at least now I have a map.