Viktoor Frankl
By Prof. Dr. Franz Vesely, CC BY-SA 3.0 de, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=15153593
From Elevate the Discourse | March 21, 2025
Viktor Frankl sat in a concentration camp and rewrote the modern conception of a meaningful life. He didn’t do it in a flurry of psychiatric detachment. He did it by observing the broken, the barely alive, the guards and prisoners, and especially those who somehow managed not just to survive but to live inside of suffering.
Frankl’s insight was simple: We do not need happiness to live. We need meaning. Unlike happiness, meaning does not require balance. Meaning requires wholeness.
This is a controversial idea, especially when we hear about the importance of achieving a “work-life balance.” Life sometimes feels like a set of scales, and we’re all trying to become expert jugglers of our time and energy, balancing passion with rest, ambition with mindfulness, and hustling with self-care. While this image sounds appealing, it does raise a question: What if it’s wrong?
In Man’s Search for Meaning, Frankl describes prisoners who, despite suffering, discovered dignity in simple acts such as comforting fellow inmates, reciting poetry, or looking at the sunset through the barbed wire. Their lives lacked any sense of balance and were filled only with pain. However, one thread connected them all, weaving the brutality and beauty into a cohesive whole. This thread was meaning.
Frankl’s brilliance lies in his insight that we don’t find meaning in just one area of our lives: our careers, relationships, or hobbies. Instead, meaning emerges when we blend our experiences through time and different situations into a grand narrative of purpose. In essence, meaning completes us and gives us a sense of wholeness.
Wholeness, in contrast to balance, embraces extremes. Take the mother who stays up all night caring for her sick child and then, despite her exhaustion, delivers a fantastic presentation the very next morning. She may not feel balanced, but she embodies wholeness, as caregiving and contributing stem from values she cherishes. Balance shies away from extremes, but wholeness integrates them.
This isn't a license to burnout. It is an invitation to reframe our lives. Instead of asking, “How do I find balance?” we could ask, “What shapes my life? What makes it coherent?” Is there a connection between our work, how we interact with our children, or how we spend a lonely Friday night?
That’s the big question: not whether each part of our lives gets an equal share of time but whether each part participates in a common purpose.
Frankl referred to this concept as "logos," highlighting a meaning beyond pleasure, comfort, or survival. He said, “Those who have a ‘why’ to live can bear almost any ‘how.’" Our culture often confuses the “how” with the “why.” We adjust schedules, fine-tune routines, and organize our calendars. However, at the heart of it, these are logistical details. Meaning is the foundation we build upon.
Perhaps our lives aren’t meant to be perfectly balanced. Maybe they’re meant to be authentic, and authenticity doesn’t arise from moderation but integration.
Integration means embracing a life in which the tough times, joyful experiences, and successes create a story you’re excited to share.
You can be out of balance but completely whole.
That’ll preach.