Using Stories to Help Solve Young Adults' Existential Dilemma

At some point in our lives, most people—and especially young adults struggling with self-efficacy—encounter a state of emotional and intellectual paralysis. This is the existential dilemma; what does it all mean? To figure it out, it helps to read literature, art, history, philosophy, and religion; these are the whetstones for such skill. After all, we are the authors of our lives. Just as writers get blocked, naturally we do, too. The humanities can help us learn how to deconstruct narratives while connecting us to the timelessness of our condition, normalizing it so we can shift our perspective and solve these conundrums for ourselves in ways that resonate with our soul.

To Float or to Swim?

Let’s begin with Gonzo journalist Hunter S. Thompson. At age 22, a friend wrote to him to ask what he should do with his life, to which Thompson responded with an eloquent letter (linked below), stating that to ask any man “what to do with his life” would elicit “egomania” from the responder. Thompson humbly recognized what therapists do, too: that the individual is the best expert on themselves. Thompson references Shakespeare’s Hamlet, rephrasing the prince’s to be or not to be as: to float or to swim? Are you looking to take it as it comes, or do you have a desired destination that requires a bit of effort? Neither answer is wrong.

However, it’s important to understand how narratives work. Stories have a beginning, middle, and end, but many events have those components. Stories gain salience from what psychologist Lev Vygotsky defined as “the violation of expectation.” Dramatist David Mamet named a similar dynamic, the element of surprise. Hollywood is littered with predictable stories, but the ones that we love surprise us. This influences real-life stories, too.

Role of Attachment

Consider attachment theory, the idea that our early relationship with our parents defines how we relate to others as we age. In a securely attached relationship: Mom takes care of me as expected; I feel safe; I grow up to have healthy relationships. Subconsciously, that’s how things are meant to work. Let’s consider the alternative: Mom is a caregiver and supposed to take care of me; mom is absent and cold; my needs aren’t met; I struggle to regulate within the environment and develop maladaptive coping mechanisms.

Children see the world simply and are wired to rely on the caregiver for security. If the caregiver falls short, the denial of expectation leads the child to create a story to make sense of things. This narrative is self-protecting because the caregiver is innately perceived to be the strong one, so the notion that the caregiver is falling short would rupture the child’s ego and stability. The maladapted story colors the beliefs and self-concepts. It coincides with coping behaviors that are self-reinforcing. Think of poor Holden Caulfield in Catcher in the Rye, seeing everyone around him as “phonies,” or that common thought pattern, I’m so unloveable, I might as well stay in my room.

Vygotsky noted our internal dialogue is subjective; however, it’s also influenced by culture, history, and experience, all of which feed the context that colors our understanding. The voice in the head holds conversations, rehearsing with adversaries or hopeful partners, etc. Dan Siegel, a neuroscientist, studied that we do this by Observing, Witnessing, and Narrating (OWNing). It is organized into a linear format to make sense of it via Others and the Self (OATS). Internal narratives are reinforced, often with embellishments, most of which become our truth despite factual accuracy. Using mindfulness and narrative therapy, a therapist can help us in understanding that narrative, the characters (social circle, antagonists, mentors), role of family, and our values, personality, strengths, and avoidance tactics.

Aristotle noted that believable characters are imperfect and must endure hardships, like reversals of fortune. To get out of a predicament, they must come to a realization and act on it, for all character is action. We see this in movies as well as in our lives. Joseph Campbell talks about this in The Hero’s Journey. There is always an inciting incident that leads us—for we are the protagonists of our story—to make a decision. Some characters “refuse the call,” much like those struggling with a delayed transition to adulthood. Whether through the aid of others or through circumstance, we make a move, and the story progresses with obstacles. We use tactics to navigate and overcome those challenges. How we prevail becomes the story we tell.

Source: Jerry Kavan / Unsplash

Keys to the Development of Meaning

Viktor Frankl, an Austrian-born psychologist, was a victim of the Holocaust. He also noticed that those who had, as Nietzsche noted, a why, could endure any how. The process of deconstruction doesn’t lead to meaning and purpose alone. Frankl noted four keys to the development of meaning: synchronicity, work, relationships, and facing difficulties.

He realized that the Nazis could take everything and inflict pain, but they couldn’t take his view of his experience. Synchronicity proved pivotal, and synchronicity provided the alignment through his cognitive reframing. Through all that bleakness, he could focus on a sunset or the colors of a bird perched on a window. His perspective was rewarded by noticing the beauty of the bird. It’s like the magic one feels when something we’re thinking coincides with a song that is suddenly playing on the radio.

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When Frankl first entered Auschwitz, the Nazis took a manuscript of his, which was vital to him. Rather than despair, he committed himself to trying to recreate it in his head, and he vowed to rewrite it once freed. Holding that goal gave him a reason to live. Our culture has placed an unbalanced value on the role of work, and too many kids are given the platitude of “following your passion.” A healthier tact would be to find your skills and work on them for the sake of the work, not the result. You will become passionate about something after you’re good at it. As musician Jason Isbell said, “talent is only an ability to sustain interest.” Follow your skills of interest and know that creative jobs aren’t the only place to find “passion” and “meaningful work.” Perhaps find something that’s of service to others? The reward is baked in.

Developing a good social circle and quality relationships with those in your community will lead to more meaning. Making eye contact and exchanging friendly hellos improves well-being. David Brooks’ new book, How to Know a Person, is a deep dive into the qualities that improve connection. We are social animals, yet the digital space has made us more connected and more isolated. To improve your relationships and sense of meaning from them, put down your phone.

That goes double for having to document everything. Like that big mountain you climbed. Sure it filled you with satisfaction … but let’s pause to consider why: because it was hard. That is what made it picture-worthy! That’s Frankl’s fourth point: Facing difficulties defines us. You’re scared to leave your house to take part in work, dating, getting an apartment. Sure, doing all that may be hard and scary, but the grit and resilience you attain in the face of that difficulty is what gives it its meaning. If Luke became a Jedi without any problems and found quick faith in the Force, Star Wars would be meaningless.

For a meaningful life, read more. Know your values, who and what’s important to you, and the avoidance tactics that distract you from being present. Don’t know that? Find an ACT or narrative therapist. Develop skills and face your difficulties, for they will give your life meaning. Above all, use your imagination! As Will Smith’s character says in Six Degrees of Separation: “I believe imagination is the passport that takes us into the real world. I believe the imagination is merely another phrase for what is most uniquely us [...] To face ourselves: that’s the hard thing. The imagination: that’s God's gift to make the act of self-examination bearable.”