Part 2: I Did Another Thing — Lisa’s Search for Meaning
During my psilocybin trip, I spent hours seeing fractals stretching out into infinity; every window opened up into infinite more windows. Some find glimpsing infinity like this (or even contemplating it by looking at the vast ocean, hiking in a forest, or stargazing) very reassuring. They often say it helps them feel connected to something bigger and therefore gives them meaning. For me, it has the opposite effect. Contemplating the vastness of the universe makes me feel very small, insignificant and meaningless.
In order to help me make sense of my experience, I worked with a therapist who specializes in “meaning-based” therapy developed by neurologist and psychologist Viktor Frankel after his time in a Nazi concentration camp. Frankel observed that those who had a clear sense of their purpose and meaning coped with their circumstances better (as Nietzche said, “He who has a why to live can bear almost any how”).
With the therapist, I worked through Frankel’s specific protocol designed to help people identify what gives their life meaning. Each week we focused on different areas where one might derive meaning. It could be via one’s work, or via connections with other people, or via beautiful experiences, etc. This protocol was a nice exercise, but to be honest, I was still struggling to reconcile what felt like my fairly insignificant sources of meaning relative to the incomprehensibly, relentlessly, infinite universe I saw during my 6 hour trip. My sources of meaning matter a great deal to me, sure; but what do they really matter? I’m a single grain of sand, a drop in the ocean, a single star in an endless universe.
I kept asking: How does looking at the ocean or hiking in an enormous forest and feeling so small help people find meaning? None of the typical, but orthogonal, answers about beauty and interconnectedness addressed the question. [Sorry, you apparently can take the girl out of the law, but you can’t take the (annoyingly analytical) law out of the girl.] Finally, the lead doc on the study, Dr. Tony, took a different tack that helped me make some headway. He said “maybe when people see things like this, instead of feeling small, they unconsciously tune into the power and majesty and recognize it in themselves.” He told me “let yourself be big.” I find this a little hard to wrap my head around, but it at least directly addresses my question about this fundamental paradox.
Dr. Tony also gently suggested I might stop trying so hard. Reader, you will not be surprised to hear that I have received this suggestion before. I’m a chronic over-tryer. Frankel’s book, the foundation for his therapeutic approach, is titled “Man’s Search for Meaning.” I took this as a very high-stakes directive: Figure out your mission! But maybe, instead of searching diligently, sometimes things are best figured out by allowing them to come to you. So, now I’m trying really hard to not try so hard (I know, I have a problem).
It’s not where I expected to land, and it’s a lot more amorphous and passive than I would prefer. But I am tired, and ready for a respite from trying to figure out the meaning of the universe. In our last conversation, Dr. Tony gave me a new assignment, “let the ocean work on you.” Yes, sir. Staring at the ocean and allowing it to do the work on me is finally a directive I can fulfill.
