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When we try to find our way through the world and construct a life that makes sense of who we are and what we do, we often focus on meaning and purpose. These words hold tremendous weight. They can bring both anxiety and relief. On one hand, the impression that we might unearth a deeper understanding of why we get up in the morning and why we act the way we do is invigorating. On the other hand, the pressure to find meaning or live a purposeful life can itself be a source of considerable stress.
This is not to say that searching for meaning and purpose is misguided. In fact, psychological research and philosophy across centuries, long before psychotherapy became a formal discipline, emphasize that finding a driving “why” is deeply relevant to human motivation and well-being. So it is not incorrect that we seek meaning and purpose as underlying motivators of our lives. But what we often underestimate is how elusive, complex, and slow the journey can be, and how much practical action must accompany reflection.
Over recent decades, therapies such as Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) have given meaning and purpose a prominent role. The “acceptance” component invites us to embrace our moment-to-moment reality, while the “commitment” component steers us to live in alignment with personal values. Such therapies can be highly effective. But many therapists and many of their clients observe a limitation. Recognizing that someone seeks meaning and purpose does not automatically translate into knowing what to do with that insight.
In clinical practice, I frequently meet people who intuitively grasp that they are looking for meaning and purpose. Yet when they are handed worksheets or a step-by-step manual for “finding your meaning,” the exercise often falls flat. The person senses that something feels off. This is not the same as delving into meaning and purpose. It does not address the deeper complexity of the endeavor. What is being asked for is a more profound shift, not simply filling in blanks, but embracing an ongoing process of exploration, acceptance, and practical application.
That reflection brings me to a theme I have returned to in this blog from time to time. The idea is that non-human animals might have something to teach us about living in a less verbally tangled, more practical way. We humans lean heavily on verbal speech, our internal dialogues, our meta-cognitive analyses, our running commentary of “what ifs” and “shoulds.” That propensity for introspection, verbal rumination, planning, and self-critique can entangle us. In contrast, animals do not use verbal language in this way, yet they survive and thrive in complex and demanding environments.
A research article published in Frontiers in Ecology and Evolution makes exactly this point. In “Decision-making from the animal perspective: Bridging ecology and subjective cognition,” Budaev and colleagues argue that animals often rely on practical, fast, non-symbolic heuristics to sustain life in uncertain environments. They do not engage in verbal rumination. They do not run in circles asking “Why am I here?” or “What should I become?” They respond directly to what is happening in the moment (Budaev, Jørgensen, Mangel, Eliassen, & Giske, 2019).
The authors point out that animals’ decision-making often favors speed and sufficiency over reflection and perfection. Their behaviors are tuned to ecological realities such as predation risk, resource scarcity, and habitat change. The mental machinery of survival emphasizes what works now rather than what might hold in some abstract future scenario. In that sense, animals live complex lives, but their decision strategy is empirical. They sense the situation, apply a rule of thumb that has served before, and act. There is no grand verbal reflection or limitless internal debate.
What can we learn from that as human beings committed to finding meaning and purpose in our lives? I would suggest several lessons that build on my experience as a therapist and as someone who has written extensively about comparative psychology.
First, recognize that the search for meaning and purpose will benefit from practical behaviors. It is not only an internal philosophical expedition. It must be grounded in how you move through the world. Just as animals respond to direct cues in their environment and act, you too need to translate value into action, whether that is volunteering, initiating a creative project, offering service to someone else, or aligning daily choices with what matters. Without doing that, meaning remains a concept rather than a lived reality.
Second, accept that animals may be less burdened by anticipatory anxiety because they are not negotiating the endless “what ifs” that our verbal minds generate. Humans often falter because we predict too much, worry too deeply, and reflect in an endless loop, whereas animals in the wild do not. They sense threat and act. They sense opportunity and act. They are not immune to complexity, but their decision-making framework is efficient. That suggests that part of living with meaning is letting go of overthinking, of using movement and direct response to override paralysis.
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Third, appreciate that we are wired differently from animals. Our capacity for language and reflection is a gift, but it comes with trade-offs. It means that the journey toward meaning and purpose might be inherently slower, more circuitous, and less straightforward. If animals succeed because they act without internal hesitation, humans succeed by acting with internal deliberation but not being trapped by it. We must create space for doing rather than merely thinking.
Fourth, beware of therapy models that frame meaning and purpose as a set of checkboxes to be completed in a few weeks. Real change often involves simple steps, but those steps are rarely easy. Just because something is straightforward does not make it easy. As a therapist, I often hear clients lament that the therapist told them they would feel better in 10, 20, or 30 sessions, only to find that while they made progress, the deeper sense of alignment they seek takes longer. Setting realistic expectations is part of the path.
When I reflect on why we struggle so much to find meaning and purpose, part of the answer lies in our avoidance of complexity. We want a path that is neat. We want instructions, simplicity, and certainty. Using animal decision-making as a metaphor, we could say we need to accept that living meaningfully involves both inner reflection and outward action, that our advanced cognitive faculties require translation into grounded behavior, and that the search may be threaded through uncertainty rather than wrapped up neatly.
So when you next ask yourself why you struggle to find meaning, consider this. Perhaps the difficulty is not a failure of desire or value. Perhaps it is a resistance either to practical action or to the time it takes. Perhaps it is a hesitancy to act until the perfect meaning emerges. The lesson from animals is clear. They act in the moment with what they have. While humans cannot and should not abandon their capacity for introspection, we can learn to respect the value of immediacy, responsiveness, and grounding meaning in the lived world.
Meaning and purpose matter. They remain central to a fulfilling existence. But they are not reached through reflection alone. They are found in doing, in responding, and in aligning what we think with what we do. If animals can succeed in the wild without ever asking “What is the meaning of my life?” then perhaps we can take a cue. Find your action, do your small bit, and let purpose emerge through living rather than through endless internal rumination.
