The quiet sense that something is missing isn’t a flaw—it’s a signal inviting you to move toward what truly fulfills you.
We all know the feeling—that quiet sense that something is missing, that despite checking all the boxes society tells us matter, we're still searching for something more. It's the question that surfaces during quiet moments: "Is this it?"
The answer lies not in what we've been told should fulfill us, but in discovering what actually does.
Just like everything in life (food preferences, creative routines, and beauty and so on,) living a meaningful life is unique to the individual.
For some people, it's having an impact through their career—maybe they're helping women escape difficult family situations or guiding young adults toward financial security.
Others find meaning in side projects: building nonprofit writing centers, organizing community gardens, or setting up immigrant helplines.
Some discover it in family—raising children with kindness, curiosity, and fairness, or caring for a neighbor, parent, or elderly aunt.
And others find it in self-expression: writing, art, photography, quilting, dancing, jewelry making.
All of these are beautiful expressions of meaning.
Where is your meaning?
Every person finds meaning in a different place, and often multiple things feel meaningful to us—you don't have to choose just one. However, I believe each of us has an area that speaks to us more strongly at any given point in life. And perhaps more importantly, we instinctively know when there isn't enough meaning in our lives.
I remember talking about meaning years ago with my husband. At the time, he was a research scientist in agriculture who found meaning in his work as advances in his field help produce more food for the world's growing population. I worked in the global mobility/relocation industry. I listened to him wistfully, shaking my head.
I said I wasn't doing anything meaningful.
"Well, you help people move," he offered.
Perhaps when I was a consultant, I did, a little bit. I remember talking to a transferee from the Midwest in the U.S. after they opened the container (already delayed by shipping issues) with his household goods in England. The movers roughly handled a piece of furniture, a family heirloom. The leg had snapped, and the movers seemed nonchalant.
He was so upset. He called me, he said, and not his HR rep because I'd moved many times and I knew what it was like. Arriving somewhere new, where nothing worked the way you knew it to. It was like wearing an ill-fitting suit to a wedding…you're supposed to be having the time of your life, and you just feel awful.
Him, perhaps, I helped.
The point, though, is that I didn't feel as if the work was meaningful. And that was most certainly the case once I was promoted to managing clients. My days became filled with KPIs, annual reports, service delivery issues, billing errors. To make matters worse, I couldn't seem to find time to do the one thing I knew I did like – write.
I felt stuck.
Where meaning comes from
Somehow, I knew there was something else that was meant to come out of me and that there was some way I was supposed to be using the skills and gifts I had to make a difference.
Somehow.
What I needed to do was not at all evident though.
It took me years of unraveling what I'd been taught to believe about myself and about my work in the world to arrive at a place where I am now able to understand that meaning is derived, individually, by bringing forth what is inside you that wants to come out. And that by doing so, you not only feel more fulfilled yourself, you make the world a better place.
Meaning comes down to using your gifts and talents.
To doing the things you love. Not the things you're good at necessarily; the things you LOVE. The things that make your heart sing. The things that when you do them you feel as if the Oneness is coming through you. Michael Meade refers to this as genius.
Your genius may be in your writing. It may be in your parenting. It may be in your flower garden. Or your coaching business or yoga studio.
Whatever it is, this thing, it's THIS that provides meaning. THIS is what, when your eyes flutter open in the morning fresh from the mist of dreams, reminds you what you're here to do.
Does this line up with a career? Maybe, maybe not. Does this line up with paid work? Maybe. Maybe not.
The wrong questions
But here's the thing: those are the wrong questions. These are the types of questions (along with other unhelpful ones) that stop us from taking the steps we need to finding that meaning for ourselves.
It's easy to get stuck. In the coming weeks, I'll talk a bit more about where and why we get stuck, and of course, I'll also share some thoughts about what we can do about it when we find ourselves there.
But recognizing that it's this sense of meaning you're not feeling enough of? That offers a powerful sense of direction.
The ripple effect of living meaningfully
The beautiful paradox is this: when you stop asking "What should I do?" you can shift and start asking "What wants to come through me?" Then, you’re on your way to not just finding your own fulfillment—but to giving the world exactly what it needs from you. Your meaning isn't just personal; it's your unique contribution to the collective human experience.
So where is your meaning waiting to be discovered?
PHOTO BY DIANE DOUIYSSI