The Power Of Meaning

Why do so many of us feel empty even when our lives appear successful? In The Power of Meaning, Emily Esfahani Smith argues that the key to fulfillment is not chasing happiness but cultivating meaning. Drawing on psychology, philosophy, and moving real-world stories, Smith contends that you can feel complete even during pain, failure, or loss—if your life is anchored by a sense of purpose, belonging, storytelling, and transcendence.

Smith begins by diagnosing what she calls the modern “meaning crisis.” Despite unprecedented wealth and freedom, depression, loneliness, and suicide rates have risen. Society encourages the pursuit of happiness—momentary pleasure and comfort—but often neglects deeper fulfillment. Happiness, she argues, is fleeting; meaning, by contrast, endures. Life can be rich in purpose even when it’s not easy or joyful.

The Search for Something Deeper

Smith distinguishes between two paths to the good life. The first path—rooted in hedonia—focuses on pleasure, comfort, and avoidance of pain. The second—eudaimonia—stems from Aristotle’s notion of flourishing through virtue, purpose, and contribution. Drawing from psychology research (such as studies by Roy Baumeister and Martin Seligman), she shows that people who live meaningful lives often experience more stress and struggle—but also greater satisfaction and resilience. Meaning makes hardship worthwhile.

Four Pillars That Build a Meaningful Life

Smith synthesizes a vast array of research into what she calls the “four pillars of meaning”: belonging, purpose, storytelling, and transcendence. These pillars, drawn from ancient wisdom and contemporary science alike, provide the scaffolding for a life that feels worthwhile.

• Belonging—Feeling cared for and valued by others, both in close relationships and broader communities.
• Purpose—Having goals larger than yourself that use your strengths to serve others.
• Storytelling—Making sense of your life by integrating experiences into a coherent narrative that defines who you are.
• Transcendence—Losing yourself in moments of awe, creativity, or spirituality that connect you to something larger.

These pillars aren’t reserved for monks or philosophers. They show up in everyday places—from a zookeeper’s dedication to her animals to a dinner table where friends share stories of grief. As Smith demonstrates, a life rich in meaning doesn’t eliminate suffering—it gives you the strength to face it.

The Difference Between Happiness and Meaning

Research backs up Smith’s main thesis. Happiness correlates with self-focused activities—consuming, relaxing, or momentary pleasure—while meaningfulness correlates with giving, creating, and connecting. Meaningful lives are often less easy but more complete. People anchored in meaning weather stress better and report higher life satisfaction over time. As John Stuart Mill famously put it, “Those only are happy who have their minds fixed on some object other than their own happiness.”

Why Meaning Matters Now

In a world that prizes comfort, consumption, and individual freedom, we risk losing touch with purpose and connection. Smith blends science with stories—of a father finding redemption after his daughter’s tragedy, a prisoner discovering purpose through service, and astronauts transformed by awe—to show how meaning can be rediscovered even in crisis. Her message is both timeless and urgent: by building the four pillars of meaning in our daily lives, we not only feel more alive—we help illuminate the world around us.

Belonging, Smith writes, begins with feeling that you are seen, known, and valued by others. This sense of mutual care gives your life stability and worth. From a small island in the Chesapeake Bay to a medieval reenactment community in Cleveland, she shows that belonging is both universal and fragile—and often missing in modern societies.

Tangier Island: A Living Lesson in Community

On Tangier Island, Virginia—a tiny, tight-knit fishing village—community is life itself. Residents know everyone by name, attend church together, and rally to help neighbors in need. As islander Peggy Gordy told Smith, “When someone is grieving, we grieve with them.” Even amid economic decline and rising sea levels, Tangier’s deep sense of mutual care gives residents a powerful source of identity and meaning.

When native Edward Pruitt left Tangier to study and later join the navy, he felt the void of community for the first time. In college, he realized how lonely it can be to live among strangers. Belonging, he tells Smith, doesn’t just soothe loneliness—it affirms your worth. We matter because others treat us as though we do.

The Science of Belonging

Psychologists Roy Baumeister and Mark Leary describe belonging as a fundamental human motivation. We need frequent, positive interactions where we feel appreciated. When belonging is absent, people fall into despair. Early twentieth-century physicians once discouraged physical affection for babies, thinking touch spread disease. The result was catastrophic: infants in sterile orphanages died not from infection but from neglect. Pediatrician René Spitz’s 1945 research revealed that babies deprived of love and touch literally withered away. They didn’t need just food—they needed connection.

From Isolation to Intimacy

Belonging evolves as we do. Early in life, it means a caregiver’s love. Later, it extends to friendships, partnerships, and communities. Yet modern life threatens this need. One-third of Americans over forty-five say they’re lonely, and our circle of close confidants has shrunk dramatically over the past few decades. Social media may connect us technologically but often leaves us emotionally distant.

Smith argues that we can offset this isolation through “high quality connections”—brief but genuine encounters that affirm dignity. Janitors in a hospital, for example, found greater meaning when doctors or patients simply greeted them respectfully. Even fleeting exchanges—like buying coffee from the same vendor every morning—can become small acts of mutual recognition that remind us we belong to the human story.

Belonging ennobles both sides

When we open our hearts to others, we elevate them—and ourselves. As the Buddha’s story of compassion illustrates, love and kindness revealed even in suffering ripple outward, giving our lives lasting significance.

A feeling of belonging doesn’t depend on big gestures. It begins when we choose to see others as people, not roles. Whether greeting a colleague, spending time with family, or joining a community group, mutual care reminds us that we matter and are not alone—and that is where meaning begins.

Purpose, Smith explains, is your answer to the question “Why do I exist?” It gives your days direction, helps you persevere through hardship, and connects self-expression with contribution. Using diverse examples—from a Detroit zookeeper to an ex-con turned fitness entrepreneur—Smith illustrates that purpose doesn’t have to be grand. It simply requires serving something beyond yourself.

Calling Without Glory

At the Detroit Zoo, Ashley Richmond cleans animal stalls twelve hours a day. Her hands ache, her pay is modest, yet she radiates joy. Caring for giraffes and kangaroos gives her a sense of moral responsibility. She isn’t just maintaining enclosures—she’s creating better lives for creatures that depend on her. As Smith points out, 80% of her job is mundane labor, but meaning transforms chores into care. She calls her work a calling, not a job.

Climbing the Right Mountain

Purpose often reveals itself through pain. Twenty-one-year-old Emeka Nnaka’s career as a semi-pro football player ended abruptly after a spinal injury left him paralyzed. Initially adrift, he found new purpose mentoring at-risk youth and studying counseling. “I was climbing the wrong mountain,” he said. His injury, though devastating, redirected him to a higher calling: service. In helping others heal, he rebuilt his own identity.

Transforming Broken Stories

Psychologist Dan McAdams calls such accounts “redemptive stories”—narratives that transform suffering into moral or spiritual growth. People who craft redemptive identities, research shows, report greater life satisfaction and a stronger desire to contribute to future generations. Conversely, “contamination stories,” in which good experiences are tainted by later tragedy, predict anxiety and despair. Purpose grows when we interpret experiences through a lens of growth and agency, not helplessness.

Everyday Purpose

Smith reminds us that purpose doesn’t always mean curing disease or starting a movement. It might come from raising a child, mentoring a colleague, or crafting something beautiful. In studies by Wharton professor Adam Grant, employees who saw how their work helped others—such as university fundraisers meeting scholarship recipients—became dramatically more productive. When people view themselves as givers rather than recipients, their identity shifts toward meaning.

Ultimately, purpose is where your unique abilities meet the world’s needs. Philosopher Frederick Buechner called it “the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.” When you dedicate your strengths to something larger—whether that’s caring for animals, teaching children, or building community—you not only create meaning for yourself, you magnify it for others.

Why do humans tell stories? Because we need to make sense of the world—and of ourselves. Smith reveals that storytelling is not just art; it’s a psychological necessity. By weaving disparate memories and experiences into a cohesive narrative, we create what psychologist Dan McAdams calls a “narrative identity,” an internal story that explains who we are and how we’ve changed.

From Chaos to Redemption

Consider Erik Kolbell, a minister and psychotherapist whose teenage daughter suffered a life-threatening brain injury. For months, Kolbell wrestled with the question: “Where is the good in any of this?” He found it when hospital staff told him that his daughter’s recovery inspired them to continue their work. “This is the redemption,” he realized—her survival gave meaning not only to their suffering but to others’. Smith calls such reframing transformative: a tragedy becomes a catalyst for compassion.

Narrative Identity and Rewriting Our Lives

Stories are how we integrate our past into purpose. McAdams discovered that people living meaningful lives often tell redemptive stories filled with growth, communion, and agency. Narrative editing is even therapeutic. Research shows that when people intentionally rewrite their life stories—turning victimhood into resilience—their mental health improves as much as it does through medication or traditional therapy.

Smith highlights The Moth storytelling events, where ordinary people share personal tales on stage. As storytellers organize their experiences into a beginning, conflict, and resolution, they often gain new understanding of themselves. An audience member listening might feel their own story reflected back, realizing they too are not alone. Stories heal both teller and listener.

Counterfactual Thinking: The Meaning of What Might Have Been

We also find meaning by imagining alternative outcomes. Psychologist Laura Kray’s studies show that reflecting on how life could have gone differently—if you hadn’t met your partner or attended a certain school—helps you appreciate your actual path. This “mental subtraction” strengthens the sense that your life events were “meant to be.” Even suffering, when examined thoughtfully, can reveal hidden gifts or growth.

The stories we choose to tell become the lives we live

Your narrative can either paralyze you with regret or propel you with renewal. Editing your story consciously—turning chaos into coherence—helps transform pain into wisdom.

To live meaningfully, Smith argues, you must be the author of your own story. Facts can’t be changed, but interpretation can. When your story becomes one of growth, love, and renewed agency, your life becomes a redemptive tale worth telling.

Transcendence, the fourth pillar, is about moments that lift you beyond the ordinary. These experiences—standing beneath an infinite sky or hearing sacred music—dissolve the boundaries of self and create unity with something vast. Smith argues that such experiences renew our perspective, reduce fear of death, and remind us how small yet integral we are to the cosmos.

Awe Beneath the Stars

At the McDonald Observatory in Texas, Smith joined hundreds for a stargazing “party.” As constellations emerged, she recounts the humbling realization that the light reaching her eyes had traveled millions of years. Watching meteors streak across the sky, people around her gasped with wonder. That shared awe—what psychologist Dacher Keltner calls “the small self”—creates transcendence: when your ego shrinks, your compassion expands.

Science of the Sublime

Neuroscientist Andrew Newberg’s brain scans of meditators and monks show that moments of deep prayer or awe deactivate the brain’s orientation region—the part that defines where you end and the world begins. Subjectively, this feels like merging with all existence. These brief dissolutions of self, research finds, reduce anxiety and increase empathy and gratitude.

Stories of Transcendence

Astronaut Jeff Ashby described seeing Earth from space as a revelation: from that vantage, “you realize how connected everything is.” Many astronauts report the same shift, dubbed the “Overview Effect”—a spontaneous global consciousness born of awe. Likewise, cancer patient Janeen Delaney discovered peace after a psilocybin-induced mystical experience. Confronting mortality, she felt that “it’s okay to stop breathing”—a profound reconciliation between fear and infinity.

Everyday Gateways to the Infinite

You don’t need space travel or psychedelics to transcend. You can meditate, pray, create art, walk in nature, or listen to music that stirs something greater. What matters, Smith insists, is surrender—the willingness to step outside the self. In doing so, you rediscover connection. These “moments of awe” become the matches struck in the dark, illuminating that there is more to life than ourselves—and that meaning often begins when ego ends.

Suffering can devastate or transform us. Smith explores this paradox through the lens of post-traumatic growth—the idea that pain, though shattering, can deepen our capacity for love, gratitude, and purpose. Drawing on trauma research and stories like Bob Curry’s transformation from alcoholic veteran to community leader, Smith shows that rebuilding meaning after loss strengthens every pillar of life.

When Crisis Becomes Catalyst

Curry, a Vietnam veteran haunted by guilt and PTSD, spiraled into alcoholism until a fatal DUI changed everything. Acquitted but broken, he decided to dedicate his life to helping other veterans through a coffeehouse network called Dryhootch. His story embodies psychologist Richard Tedeschi’s finding: people who endure trauma often experience “positive change through struggle,” emerging more compassionate and purposeful than before.

The Dinner Party and Collective Healing

Smith attends a gathering of The Dinner Party—a network where young people who’ve lost loved ones share meals and stories. Talking openly about grief, they transform isolation into belonging and pain into growth. Such communities sustain meaning by rebuilding the pillars shattered by loss—belonging through shared vulnerability, purpose through helping others heal, storytelling through reflection, and transcendence through togetherness.

How We Grow After Trauma

Trauma challenges our core beliefs, but deliberate reflection—what psychologists call “sense-making”—helps rebuild stronger ones. Writing exercises developed by James Pennebaker show that putting painful events into story form enhances physical and mental health. By facing suffering instead of avoiding it, people develop clarity and strength. Viktor Frankl, in Auschwitz, made the same observation: purpose and love can redeem even the darkest suffering.

Meaning doesn’t erase pain—it transforms it

Adversity breaks us open. What we build afterward—a life re-rooted in purpose, love, and community—is stronger because of the cracks.

From grief, to trauma, to daily stress, Smith shows that a meaningful mindset—the belief that even pain can teach—cultivates resilience. We may not choose our suffering, but we can choose our story about it. And that choice turns tragedy into growth.

Meaning is not just personal—it’s communal. Smith ends by exploring how schools, companies, and cities can nurture collective purpose. From classrooms that inspire teens’ dreams to businesses that connect profits with service, she argues that meaning thrives when people unite around belonging, purpose, storytelling, and transcendence.

Purposeful Education and Work

At DreamCon, hundreds of teens mentored by The Future Project share their visions for improving their communities. Guided by “Dream Directors,” they learn that school isn’t just about grades—it’s about contribution. Similarly, companies like Life is Good channel optimism into service, donating profits to help children in need. Employees describe their jobs as meaningful because their daily work fuels a larger mission.

Belonging Beyond Family

Communities like the Society for Creative Anachronism or New York’s “Age-Friendly City” initiative show how shared values knit belonging. Medieval enthusiasts find family among strangers by honoring fairness, service, and friendship. In New York, older adults volunteer as mentors, finding purpose and social ties that extend their health and joy. These groups counteract the isolation of modern urban life.

Stories and Legacy

Projects like StoryCorps preserve individual voices, turning personal memories into collective wisdom. In one recording, a teacher recounts her adoption story to leave a legacy for her grandchildren. Sharing stories connects generations and reminds people that “I exist” —the ultimate affirmation of meaning.

The New Purpose Economy

Across sectors, Smith notes a shift from material success to “meaning want.” Sociologists and economists alike observe that people increasingly crave fulfillment over wealth. Whether mentoring kids, designing ethical businesses, or crafting art that inspires awe, contributions that serve humanity and cultivate connection are redefining the good life. In the end, Smith argues, the most meaningful cultures are those built on compassion—and the recognition that when we help others matter, our own lives matter more.