摘自～2024外刊及中國日報精選（2024.11.24期)

Source: TED

I used to think the whole purpose of life was pursuing happiness. Everyone said the path to happiness was success, so I searched for that ideal job, that perfect boyfriend, that beautiful apartment. But instead of ever feeling fulfilled , I felt anxious and adrift (adj.隨波逐流的；漫無目的的). And I wasn't alone; my friends -- they struggled with this, too.

Eventually, I decided to go to graduate school for positive psychology to learn what truly makes people happy. But what I discovered there changed my life. The data showed that chasing happiness can make people unhappy. Even though life is getting objectively better by nearly every conceivable (adj.可想象的，可相信的) standard, more people feel hopeless, depressed and alone.

That raised some questions for me. Is there more to life than being happy? And what's the difference between being happy and having meaning in life? Many psychologists define happiness as a state of comfort and ease, feeling good in the moment. Meaning, though, is deeper. The renowned (adj.有名望的燎猛，著名的) psychologist Martin Seligman says meaning comes from belonging to and serving something beyond yourself and from developing the best within you. Our culture is obsessed with happiness, but I came to see that seeking meaning is the more fulfilling path.

So this all made me wonder: How can we each live more meaningfully? To find out, I spent five years interviewing hundreds of people and reading through thousands of pages of psychology, neuroscience (n.神經科學) and philosophy. Bringing it all together, I found that there are what I call four pillars of a meaningful life. And we can each create lives of meaning by building some or all of these pillars in our lives.

The first pillar is belonging. Belonging comes from being in relationships where you're valued for who you are intrinsically (adv.本質地，內在地) and where you value others as well. But some groups and relationships deliver a cheap form of belonging: you're valued for what you believe, for who you hate, not for who you are. True belonging springs from love. It lives in moments among individuals, and it's a choice -- you can choose to cultivate belonging with others.

Here's an example. Each morning, my friend Jonathan buys a newspaper from the same street vendor in New York. They don't just conduct a transaction, though. They take a moment to slow down, talk, and treat each other like humans. But one time, Jonathan didn't have the right change, and the vendor said, "Don't worry about it." But Jonathan insisted on paying, so he went to the store and bought something he didn't need to make change. But when he gave the money to the vendor, the vendor drew back. He was hurt. He was trying to do something kind, but Jonathan had rejected him.

I think we all reject people in small ways like this without realizing it. I do. These acts devalue others. They make them feel invisible and unworthy. But when you lead with love, you create a bond that lifts each of you up.

For many people, belonging is the most essential source of meaning, those bonds to family and friends. For others, the key to meaning is the second pillar: purpose. Now, finding your purpose is not the same thing as finding that job which makes you happy. Purpose is less about what you want than about what you give. A hospital custodian (n.管理人) told me her purpose is healing sick people. Many parents tell me, "My purpose is raising my children." The key to purpose is using your strengths to serve others. Of course, for many of us, that happens through work. That's how we contribute and feel needed. Without something worthwhile to do, people flounder (v.不知所措). Of course, you don't have to find purpose at work, but purpose gives you something to live for, some "why" that drives you forward.

The third pillar of meaning is also about stepping beyond yourself, but in a completely different way: transcendence (n.超越). Transcendent states are those rare moments when you're lifted above the hustle (n.忙碌) of daily life, your sense of self fades away, and you feel connected to a higher reality. For one person I talked to, transcendence came from seeing art. For another person, it was at church. For me, I'm a writer, and it happens through writing. Sometimes I get so in the zone that I lose all sense of time and place. These transcendent experiences can change you.

Belonging, purpose, transcendence. Now, the fourth pillar of meaning, I've found, tends to surprise people. The fourth pillar is story-telling, the story you tell yourself about yourself). Creating a narrative (n.敘述) from the events of your life brings clarity. It helps you understand how you became you. But we don't always realize that we're the authors of our stories and can change the way we're telling them. Your life isn't just a list of events. You can edit, interpret and retell your story, even as you're constrained (v.驅使；強迫) by the facts.

I met a young man named Emeka, who'd been paralyzed (adj.癱瘓的匾二，不能活動的) playing football. After his injury, Emeka told himself, "My life was great playing football, but now look at me." People who tell stories like this -- "My life was good. Now it's bad." -- tend to be more anxious and depressed. And that was Emeka for a while. But with time, he started to weave a different story. His new story was, "Before my injury, my life was purposeless. I partied a lot and was a pretty selfish guy. But my injury made me realize I could be a better man." That edit to his story changed Emeka's life. After telling the new story to himself, Emeka started mentoring kids, and he discovered what his purpose was: serving others.

But what makes people change their stories? Some people get help from a therapist, but you can do it on your own, too, just by reflecting on your life thoughtfully, how your defining experiences shaped you, what you lost, what you gained. That's what Emeka did. You won't change your story overnight; it could take years and be painful. After all, we've all suffered, and we all struggle. But embracing those painful memories can lead to new insights and wisdom, to finding that good that sustains you.