Three levels of meaning that support us – how we move forward when something breaks.

When life shifts and familiar certainties crumble, questions arise that cannot simply be ignored. When children leave home, when a job ends, when someone dies too soon, or a relationship breaks down, a deep unease rises within many of us. The questions "Why?", "What for?", and "What am I good for now?" push their way to the forefront and cannot be soothed with quick answers.

We often hear well-meaning advice: enjoy life, treat yourself, relax. But anyone who has experienced loss knows that such advice only scratches the surface. You can't simply sit back and relax when your soul is in turmoil. The question of meaning doesn't disappear just because you push it aside.

For me, the meaning of life can be viewed on three levels that are interconnected and keep us in balance:

The higher meaning
This answers the question of the meaning of life for me: spiritual fulfillment, healing, realizing a good life. The question: "What do I stand for?"„
The implementation
How do I live out this purpose? As a nun, parent, baker, social worker – here I follow my inner longing or my calling. This level is constantly changing. In retirement, it's a different purpose than it was in school.
The sensory experience
Enjoy the sunset, meditate, be present with all your senses, experience community. The question: "What do I need right now?"„

When one of these levels falters, it cannot be replaced by another. Those who have lost their sense of purpose will not find it through additional tasks. Those who lose their role—for example, when children move out or a job ends—cannot fill this void with wellness or distraction. And those who have lost touch with themselves because exhaustion has constricted their lives will not become more vibrant through new projects.

This insight is uncomfortable, but necessary to avoid resorting to well-intentioned but ineffective strategies. When a pillar breaks down, it needs time, space, and mourning. And it needs permission to be replanted—slowly, tentatively, with patience. At the same time, we must look ahead: Life remains open to new paths, even when old ones no longer serve us.