Look, you’ve probably noticed this already. We live in a world obsessed with usefulness. “What’s the point?” “What’s the plan?” “What are you going to do with that?” Whether it’s a career change, a relationship, or even a weekend off, the dominant logic is always the same: what for?
Everything must have value in itself, everything must be transactional.
And I wonder if maybe, just maybe, we’re asking the wrong question altogether. Instead of wondering what for, we might be better off asking why. Not what will this give me, but why do I want to be alive at all?
And that’s not just semantics. Asking questions this way can literally reshape your life from the inside out. And now you’ll see why, and how it might help you too, if you’re also tired of living in a world obsessed with the idea that everything you do must serve a purpose.
The Trap of “What For”
“What for?” seems like a reasonable question. It’s rational, practical, efficient.
You might hear it at the dinner table when you announce to your friends you’re quitting your job.
What for? Why would you risk stability? Why would you study something that won’t guarantee a job?
It’s a question born from a culture obsessed with productivity and outcome. It reflects a utilitarian mindset. Every action must have a result. Every decision must make sense on a spreadsheet.
But there’s a problem.
If you follow this path long enough, it tends to hollow you out. You start living like a project manager ticking boxes instead of a human being trying to understand themselves.
The things that make life rich (connection, creativity, love, mystery) don’t fit well into that logic.
“What for?” is often a disguised fear. A fear of wasting time, energy, love, life. A fear of being wrong. But what if the fear isn’t in the doing, but in not knowing why you’re doing anything at all?
Listen to this.
The Depth of “Why”
How about instead of asking what for?, ask: why?
Why are you alive?
Why are you here?
Why does it matter to you to keep waking up each morning?
Why does it matter that your story continues?
These are not the kinds of questions that lead to simple answers. They don’t result in tidy vision boards or five-year plans. They are uncomfortable, and they demand full honesty on your part. But they’re the only questions that make life meaningful.
Because life, by default, doesn’t come with meaning. It just is.
The universe doesn’t explain itself. It doesn’t offer a justification for our existence. And yet, somehow, we ask for one.
So the true challenge becomes this: can I invent a reason to be here that feels real to me?
Projects as Survival
This is the part where having projects, any kind, is vital. Not in the corporate sense, but in the deeply human sense of things to live for.
Whether it’s writing a book, raising a child, planning a trip, or waiting to see a loved one again, these small projects for the future form a kind of bridge between us and the abyss. Us, the present, versus the abyss, the unknown, death, the other side.
We know we’re going to die. But between here and that moment, there’s a project. No matter how small or big.
That’s what keeps us alive, full of enthusiasm.
There’s dinner to cook, there’s someone to meet, there’s a baby on the way. You name it.
That’s how we trick death, day by day, by placing something between us and it.
The person with no projects, no desires, no short-term or long-term hopes, that’s the person who begins to feel the unbearable weight of time. Not because time is too long, but because it is empty, empty of projects.
From Meaninglessness to Meaning
“The meaning of life is not something life gives you. It’s something you give life,” says psychoanalyst Gabriel Rolón.
What he means is: if you wait around for life to make sense on its own, you’ll be waiting a long time.
And I say: if you are desperately trying to find (and waiting for) the purpose of your life, you’ll be searching (and wasting time) all your life.
Because life’s meaning or purpose is not something you find hidden under a rock or in a mystical, exotic land. It’s something you decide, and act upon.
So, what can we do?
We can choose a reason. We can say: I’m here to write books that help people think. Or I’m here to love well, even when it’s hard. Or I’m here to enjoy one more conversation with my daughter.
That’s enough. It doesn’t need to impress anyone else. It just needs to be real. Enough of these ‘save the world’ kind of projects. It can be as small or as big as you want it to be.
Rolón puts it clearly: “Let your passing not be in vain. Let it mean something to someone.”
Not Everything Needs a Use
We’ve inherited the idea that everything must be useful to be valid. If something doesn’t produce results, if it can’t be monetised, if it doesn’t make you more efficient, it’s seen as a waste.
But life doesn’t work that way. Some of the best things we’ll ever do are absolutely useless. Like falling in love, for instance. Watching the rain, walking in the rain. Laughing over coffee with your boyfriend. Listening to music that breaks you open.
What use do these things have? None. And yet, without them, life becomes unbearable.
When you shift from ‘what for’ to ‘why’, you move away from efficiency and towards meaning. You start asking what makes this moment matter, not what it will give you later in return.
Not every purpose in life has to be transactional.
The Why Changes Everything
You can do the same exact thing (go to work, cook a meal, talk to a friend), but the meaning shifts entirely depending on whether you’re doing it from a sense of purpose or out of mechanical routine.
“What for?” says: I need a return on investment.
“Why?” says: I want to live this life as mine.
Throughout history, even in the darkest places (like the concentration camps Viktor Frankl survived), people who had a strong why were the ones who could keep going mentally. Not because life became easier, but because they had decided it was worth living, even when nothing made sense.
That’s the difference.
So, What’s Your Why?
This isn’t a test, there are no right or wrong answers.
Your ‘why’ doesn’t need to be noble or grand or revolutionary. It just needs to be uniquely yours.
You might live for the people you love. Or to create the best stationery brand ever. Or the art you create. Or the services you offer to your community. Or the volunteer programme you attend every Thursday. Or the monthly gathering with your loved ones. Or the places on earth you want to travel to. Or to develop the best software in a microniche. Or to study the lives of the Iberians.
You might live because, against all odds, you still have hope. Or because you promised yourself you wouldn’t give up.
It’s not about finding a reason to live that makes life easier (it never is). The reason has to make life both bearable and beautiful. For you.
And that starts by changing the question.
The book Man’s Search for Meaning won’t give you the answer, but it will help you ask better questions. Gabriel Rolón is right, you need a ‘why’, not a ‘what for’.
Love,
Noemi
P.S. Instagram won’t give you a why. This book might not either, but it’ll help you stop running from the question.
