A Morbid Question Worth Asking

How Logotherapy May Help You Discover Your Purpose

Harvey Ramer

• 5 min read (1041 words)

It’s impossible for me to fully grasp the despair felt by inmates in Nazi death camps near the end of World War II. The psychologist, Viktor Frankl, was among those trapped in indescribably horrific conditions. Yet, he emerged after three grueling years in Auschwitz bearing a message of hope. Despite having lost all recognizable liberty, he unearthed the most potent human freedom: the capacity to select one’s attitude, irrespective of the circumstances.

While many of us endure neglect, abuse, or loss, few have suffered as intensely as Frankl. In his book, Man’s Search for Meaning,^[1] he details his experiences. Surrounded by death and disease, he managed to retain his sanity and remained curious about what prevented him from surrendering to despair or hatred towards his inhumane captors, while others succumbed.

Frankl’s resilience could have been shaped by his upbringing, genetics, or personality. But more likely, it stems from a habit of making one crucial decision: to concentrate solely on what was within his control. He chose not to wrestle with his horrific conditions but to maintain his humanity by managing his attitude.

“The last of the human freedoms: to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”

Even critically ill with typhoid fever, Frankl persevered where others faltered. Despite hovering near death, he kept himself conscious and breathing during the long nights by mentally reconstructing his lost manuscript, The Doctor and the Soul.^[2] Faced with imminent death, he made concrete plans and executed them. An unyielding will to find life’s meaning^[3] propelled him to harness all accessible resources (however sparse) to accomplish his goals.

Frankl’s suffering seemed to have expedited his grasp of vital truths. He developed a tool known as logotherapy, which helped his patients uncover their life’s purpose. To do this, he posed a simple, but somewhat morbid, question: “Why do you not commit suicide?”^[4]

The question might be shocking at first. It’s not that I dwell on my life’s worthiness. However, there have been moments when I pondered if life’s tribulations are justified by its rewards. Frankl’s question, coming as it does from beyond the grave, bursts the bubble of any romantic notions about the tortured soul and the nobility of suicide. It reminds us life is a choice by asking, “Why are you here?”

As our attitudes are informed by our self-perception and goals, I suggest writing down your immediate responses. My answers may sound cliche to you, but they hold profound significance for me. Documenting your responses could offer some sought-after clarity.

1. To be present for my wife and children
2. To assist as many people as possible in finding success and meaning
3. To enhance my mind through learning to write and communicate effectively
4. To support my family financially by acquiring and using valuable skills
5. To uplift others
6. To create beautiful things that stir my soul

I’m not here to amass wealth, change the world, or gain global fame. My mission is to uplift you if I can, share a sunset occasionally with loved ones, and take pride when I manage to communicate an idea with clarity and power.

There are, of course, many other practical questions we must confront about our purpose and how to live a fulfilling life. However, I doubt there’s a better starting point than this potent, albeit morbid, query posed by Viktor Frankl.

Here’s a parting word of encouragement. If your reasons for being seem unreachable, don’t lose hope. Any worthy goal may be too grand for us alone—it’s meant for us to share. Your faith will strengthen as you take steps towards your purpose. Risks, failures, and Viktories all carry meaning along the path. A fuller life awaits you beyond your comfort zone.