There are times in life when we find ourselves hanging our heads in our hands and wondering.

Death, departure, the loss of a close one, the breakup or dissolution of a relationship—significant life events can leave us so bewildered we can’t help but take a step back and think about the choices we’ve made; where we stand in the world now that heaven and earth have shifted to new coordinates. Worse yet when it blindsides us. Sometimes all we can do is stand and stare slack jawed thinking, what the hell just happened?

Some dear family members of ours recently moved away — folks I deemed irreplaceable. No, they weren’t going to another part of the world, but they were going far enough that they would go from being a daily part of my life to an annual part of my life—at best.

With them, they took not only companionship, camaraderie, and love, but also the only child in our small family.

Gone.

In the wake of their leaving, my wife and I experienced a spectrum of emotions—anger, sadness, regret… and finally, begrudging acceptance.

We were left asking ourselves questions. Why are we here? What’s keeping us in this city, in this part of the country? Why am I working the career I’ve chosen? Why this occupation and company? Is it time for a move? Have we been too long in this place, this town, this way of life? Would it be better to change things up, try something new?

It was about this time when I picked up two books that have been very helpful for me in the past – The Power of Now (Ekhart Tolle) and Man’s Search for Meaning (Viktor Frankl).

The Power of Now teaches mindfulness from an intellectual standpoint. I had become familiar with the concept from Sam Harris, having used his Waking Up app before, but Tolle approaches the concept from a literary dialectic standpoint, posing questions and answers between an imagined teacher and student.

The basic concept is simple: thinking too much can drive you crazy. If you let your thinking mind rule your life unchecked, buckle up for the natural consequences: neurosis, depression, anxiety, and general unhappiness.

The mind is naturally in a constant state of narrating what’s going on, what you’re going to do next, how you are reacting to the world around you, rehearsing what you want to say to someone, getting offended, getting excited, getting angry, getting disappointed… It’s a constant roller coaster.

The mind is very good at all this useless narration, pain body attachment, and propping up of the ego—but for what purpose?

The Antidote

Paying attention to the present moment, on the other hand, helps to release attachment to the racing thoughts. Similar to willfully embracing short term memory loss, you concentrate on what you’re seeing and feeling in the moment instead of perseverating on your thoughts.

Someone once described mindfulness to me as “being a rock in a river.” Your thoughts are constantly arising and there’s nothing you can do to stop them. This practice encourages you let them flow past without letting them sweep you down the drain.

There’s no way to stop these thoughts from arising. The mind will think endlessly—that is what minds do. Your job is to let the majority of those thoughts go without letting them carry you away.

A therapist once told me that 90% of our thoughts are recycled. I’m not sure how one would arrive at such a statistic, but it feels right. How many times has the same criticism crossed your mind, though you’re making different choices, engaging in different thoughts, and interacting with different people on separate days?

One could make a good argument that the source of the majority of the pain and suffering one experiences in life is the result of paying attention to some thought pattern that arose on its own and should have rightly been ignored.

The Search

Viktor Frankl’s book Man’s Search for Meaning is a heartening look into how to find meaning and fulfillment no matter what your circumstances. As a Holocaust survivor, he should know how to find meaning, if it is to be found in this life.

My biggest takeaway: in every moment of every day we have the choice whether to succumb to the forces that threaten to destroy us – our petty insecurities, vices jealousies, anger, fear, and depression – or to rise above them.

The survivors of the Holocaust were all in a horrendous situation that was beyond desperate. And yet, they managed to rise above it. Frankl had every reason in the world to be depressed, to lose hope, to wish for death as an end to his suffering – and yet he and others like him somehow managed to survive.

These brave souls chose to bear their cross with dignity and hope; to do what they could to help and encourage others to march on and survive another day.

While we may not be in the same desperate condition he was, we can certainly learn a lot from him. It takes courage to bear the circumstances in which we find ourselves, but it’s a choice we can make. We can accept our lot with dignity and play our role—not begrudgingly, with a chip on our shoulders, as if we deserve better (even if we do)—but with pride and nobility and self respect, no matter our rank or position.

It’s difficult sometimes, but if we choose to rise above our smaller selves and to play our part with a smile, we almost always see it reflected in the people around us. If we can find a way to lessen the load of our friends and neighbors in some small way, we often find ourselves rewarded and grateful we put in the effort.

This is the meaning and fulfillment Frankl describes, and is why I keep his book on my nightstand more often than not.