Why do we feel lost?

The feeling of being lost is not exactly new in human history.

Since we stopped hunting mammoths and started paying bills, our notions of existential confusion have merely changed narrative: we moved from the open fields to offices and factories.

Some say that this ‘loss of direction’ is just a modern symptom, a simple side effect of contemporary hyperconnectivity. When, in fact, since Ancient Greece, philosophers and thinkers have been questioning the meaning of life.

Socrates asked himself, ‘Who am I?’ Diogenes responded with a cynical look, while living in his barrel, laughing at the seriousness of people. Today, this ‘barrel’ has become, in some cases, a 40m² flat financed over 30 years. Times may have changed, but the ironies remain the same.

Is the feeling of going around in circles really a problem, or is it just an inevitable characteristic of those who breathe and think

“After all, why do we feel lost, even when faced with so many options?”

We are living in an era where we have app options for practically everything. We can order food, find love, call a car, meditate, entertain ourselves... The list goes on.

Amidst all this, we realise that there is no app, website, AI or social network that can accurately tell us what our role in the world is. There is no algorithm that can replace the complexity of human experience, and this is not for lack of attempts to create an intelligence that can answer why things are the way they are.

The illusion of existential GPS is when we believe that there are right, linear, and safe paths to follow. It seems that we often understand life as a kind of automated spiritual compass: ‘In 300 metres, turn left towards complete happiness.’

The beloved and misunderstood Nietzsche used to say that we need to create our own values, because the universal ‘map’ of moral ideas has collapsed.

Jung spoke about the integration of the ‘shadow,’ the dark and repressed side of our psyche, because only then can we truly know ourselves. This idea sounds very poetic, but that is only until we realise that in order to integrate our shadow, we need to look it in the eye.

We would have to strip ourselves of the persona we use to interact with the world, saying goodbye to fake smiles and phrases like ‘everything is fine’ when, in fact, everything is less than fine.

The Marketing of Positivity

Let's say that if the status quo were a religion, its main commandment would be: ‘You shall be happy at all times, or die trying.’

Our current narratives sell us an endless menu of solutions to our problems, even those we don't have. We navigate a sea of productivity courses, millionaire mindset, coaching, self-help books, spiritual retreats, various therapies, and even consultancies and masterclasses that help us find our purpose.

The diversification of this market, as well as the search for help, are not acts to be condemned. The issue here is the diverse interpretations that navigate between the lines of these practices, tools, and methods that are often sold as 100% effective lifestyles.

By believing that happiness is something that can be bought with money or promises of a perfect and limitless life, many of us end up trapped in a new cycle. With each new technique or miracle method we buy, our motivation is renewed. But how long does it last?

When we fail to maintain consistency, create discipline or blindly follow the step-by-step instructions, the emptiness returns, along with the internal pressure, only now accompanied by 12 instalments to be paid. So we set off in search of a new solution, be it another technique, another method, another job or another external agent to fill our inner void.

Stoics, such as Seneca, already warned us. They said that life is full of uncertainties, and the quest to eliminate suffering is futile. The goal is not to avoid chaos at all costs, but rather to learn to dance with it, to see it as a phenomenon of change – creative chaos, which drives us forward, opening us up to our own solutions. After all, who knows more about our own lives than we do? No one else walks in our shoes, and there is no method or step-by-step guide in the world that can replace our own understanding of ourselves.

But living in a society where selling illusions of comfort is preferable, it is obvious that we may feel even more lost. Especially when we realise that the “premium happiness” package does not work as effectively as it was advertised on the packaging.

The Culture of Comparison

Nothing confuses us more than our insistence on comparing ourselves to others. The popular saying, ‘The grass is always greener on the other side’ (click here to read the article about it), has never been so prophetic and universal.

These mental comparisons are fuelled by the logic of ‘emotional scarcity.’ When we see others happy—even if it is only on the surface—we may think that we are failing in some way. As a result, we lose our internal reference point. Instead of asking ourselves, ‘What do I want?’, we start asking ourselves, ‘What is acceptable to want so I don't look like a failure?’

When we reflect more coherently on our beliefs, we realise that these comparative mechanisms are just inherited repetitions. They are still present, simply because we do not question them.

The Idea of Separation

Contrary to what we hear, it is curious to realise that feeling lost is not just a mental issue. Our body also gives very clear signs that something needs to change. Chronic fatigue, insomnia or excessive sleep, pain and allergies with no apparent cause, all of these can be our body screaming: ‘Hey, you are ignoring what really matters.’

We still hold certain Cartesian beliefs that put our bodies on the back burner. These beliefs have been getting worse over the years, and one of the consequences of this separatist view is the growth in the production of highly processed foods.

We often give preference to highly palatable substances that feed us but do not nourish us. An example of this is the price difference: edible substances have become much cheaper than natural foods, those that our ancestors planted and harvested.

The philosopher Maurice Merleau-Ponty was one of many who defended and still defend the fact that our consciousness is not separate from our body; we are the body.

In modern life, our mind has become a kind of control panel crowded with notifications and red buttons, while our body... well, it now serves only to carry our head to the next goal.

Reconnecting with our own bodies, whether through walking, exercises that use our own weight, meditation, dialogue with ourselves, cooking without rushing using natural products... helps us both in resolving our existential dilemmas and in realising that we are demanding more from ourselves than we are living.

The Labyrinth of Choices

When we listen to our grandparents' stories and experiences, we realise that although their life choices may have been few, they were very clear. Today, we have greater ‘freedom’ within our scope of choices.

This diversity of professions, knowledge and even shampoo brands may seem liberating. But for many of us, this multitude of possibilities can also be paralysing.

The existentialist philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre said that ‘we are condemned to freedom,’ which means that every choice, even the smallest, carries the weight of all the others we did not choose. Therefore, for those who feel lost, this view works, in practice, like pouring more petrol on the fire of indecision.

Outsourced Expectations

Now, if there is one fuel that further feeds the fire of ‘Why do we feel lost’ and, consequently, our mental confusion, it is expectations - our own and those of others (click here to read the article about this).

From an early age, we receive an invisible manual written by family, social and cultural beliefs. This manual tells us what it means to ‘be successful’, ‘be responsible’, ‘be an adult’; it practically tells us how we should be in order to be accepted and seen as members of society.

To a certain extent, there is nothing wrong with that. However, this manual, in most cases, does not take into account who we really are. We may want to make a living from studying and writing, but the narrative screams that the right thing to do is to seek a ‘lifetime job,’ which is often related to something we have no real interest in.

One possible consequence of this scenario is that we end up living a life designed for others, regardless of whether they are our parents, friends or strangers. The life and career we should choose to satisfy ourselves become a limitation of choice.

Søren Kierkegaard often said that ‘most people live in a state of silent despair’ precisely because they choose to follow paths they did not consciously choose. And, ironically, the more we try to meet expectations, the further we stray from ourselves and, as a result, become even more lost

Fear

One of the reasons that intensifies all the confusion is when we avoid silence and emptiness at any cost. Paradoxically, it is in these moments that we find the most distractions: the television on, our mobile phones at hand, music in our headphones, anything to avoid facing the echo of our own questions.

Emptiness, no matter how much we have been taught otherwise, has never been our enemy. It is fertile ground from which solutions emerge that we are unable to perceive amid so many distractions.

It is there that new ideas are born and intuition speaks louder. Philosophers such as Pascal have extensive material on the subject. He already said that ‘all of man's unhappiness comes from not knowing how to stay quiet in his room.’ Today, we have brought infinite timelines into our rooms, a place of rest and comfort. This makes us pay much more attention to them than to ourselves.

Accepting our own emptiness as a natural part of our existence may not be something that happens at the snap of a finger. It does require the courage to turn off the external noise and face what is left. And what is left is often just us, without filters or distractions.

The Traps

There is a popular narrative that we all have a fixed or unique purpose, like a secret mission waiting for us to discover. This idea, while appealing, also requires some caution. For if we believe in the existence of a single purpose or specific path that we must take to find it, we begin to live with anxiety.

Eastern philosophy, especially Taoism, suggests something quite different: instead of pursuing a fixed destiny, we should live in alignment with the natural flow of life (the Tao). This would mean accepting changes of direction, temporary interests and the multiple passions that arise throughout our existence.

Perhaps the idea of ‘purpose’ has much more to do with how we walk than with a final destination.

Our Internal Compass

Since we cannot buy an existential GPS, how about tuning our internal compass?

Yes, this exists and is called: Self-knowledge through self-questioning.

When we observe our reactions to situations and question them when necessary, we begin to perceive and understand our emotional triggers in a broader way. We learn about what drives us forward and what keeps us stuck in fruitless cycles. Self-knowledge teaches us to differentiate between what we really want and what we have been trained to want.

The Stoic philosopher Epictetus said, ‘It is not things themselves that disturb us, but the opinions we have about them.’ By knowing these opinions and where they come from, we take a big step towards leaving behind the feeling of being lost.

Time and Our Confusion

It is undeniable that time is one of the greatest illusionists of existence. When we are young, it seems to drag on. But when we grow old, it flies by.

The feeling of being lost often comes from the perception that ‘time is passing’ and we have not yet ‘got there’ – wherever ‘there’ may be.

Heidegger, the philosopher who was already intrigued by time, said that living authentically means recognising our finitude and that we should use time as an ally, not an executioner.

Our problem, in this context, is perhaps not a ‘lack of time’, but rather not knowing what we want to do with it.

What if logic doesn't work?

Feeling lost does not mean, at any time, that we are completely adrift. Small habits, when incorporated into our routine, can work very effectively. They provide us with a kind of anchor in the midst of confusion.

This does not mean that we have to follow a rigid and inflexible routine, but rather create reference points that remind us of who we are. It does not matter if these small actions take the form of a quiet breakfast without a mobile phone, a notebook, some form of physical exercise or even a daily moment of silence.

These little anchors may not completely eliminate doubt, but they help us navigate through it without being swallowed up. It's like using life buoys to cross a wide river: we still need to swim, but we know we won't sink.

Acceptance

Amidst our routines, perhaps the biggest turning point we can have right now is to understand that feeling lost is not a problem, it is not a flaw, it is not a sign of failure. It is simply a reminder that we are alive, trying to do our best while moving through unknown territory.

The very word ‘find’ implies that, at some point, we were lost. This can occur at various stages of our lives, where each transition – new jobs or careers, moving to a new city or country, the end and beginning of relationships – requires a part of us to reorganise.

The trick is to stop seeing this as a failure and start seeing it as an opportunity to reinvent ourselves.

The Luxury of Being Lost

If we stop to think about it, feeling lost is a privilege of consciousness.

A stone does not feel lost. A cat probably doesn't either. But we do, because we have too many thoughts and think too little.

Perhaps being lost is ‘the price’ we pay for freedom. As Sartre would say: ‘Freedom is what you do with what has been done to you.’ And if that is the case, being lost is not a problem to be solved, but a state to be passed through.

In simple terms

Feeling lost is normal. It is the result of freedom, external expectations, comparisons, too many choices, and the difficulty of listening to yourself. There is no ready-made formula to avoid this. But what does exist are small practices, reflections, questions, and the courage to live amid the possible uncertainties of life.

In my view, this excessive search for ‘finding oneself’ can be as overwhelming as being lost.

Perhaps it would be better if we allowed ourselves to live without needing to know the next step all the time. Sometimes it is in improvisation that we find our most authentic moments and ideas.

Note: The idea for this article came to me on the very day I was supposed to post it, when I felt lost because I didn't know what to write about. Even in moments of self-criticism, we can learn some lessons.

Ultimately, we can say that self-knowledge is essential, not a luxury. So, if you've read this far, I invite you to reflect on what really matters to you today.

This brings us to the end of another article. Feel free to interact (or not) by leaving your comments, suggestions, questions, complaints, or simply recommending this text to someone who is also ‘searching for themselves.’

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Thank you and see you next time!

“The illusion crumbles when we question reality” – UN4RT

Sources, references and inspiration at a glance. Have a safe trip!

• Socrates, Dialogues by Plato.

• Diogenes the Cynic, Philosophical Traditions and Anecdotes.

• Friedrich Nietzsche, The Gay Science.

• Carl Gustav Jung, Man and His Symbols.

• Seneca, Letters to Lucilius.

• Søren Kierkegaard, Human Despair and The Concept of Anxiety.

• Jean-Paul Sartre, Being and Nothingness.

• Simone de Beauvoir, The Second Sex.

• Albert Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus.

• Maurice Merleau-Ponty, Phenomenology of Perception.

• Blaise Pascal, Thoughts.

• Epictetus, Enchiridion.

• Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching.

• Martin Heidegger, Being and Time.

• Barry Schwartz, The Paradox of Choice.

• Viktor Frankl, Man's Search for Meaning.