It’s a well-known fact that the sorry fate of most eagerly purchased exercise bikes is to end up as a glorified clothing hanger—and not just for the clean clothing. In having pondered this life’s mystery at length, I have come to the conclusion that one potential reason for this is the futility of the activity of pedaling on a stationary bike. The idea of working so hard and getting nowhere fast, seems to go against the nature of man. Recently, my husband told me about a new invention—an exercise bike that serves as a washing machine as you pedal. I thought it was quite a brilliant way to get past the futility of a stationary bike, incentivizing people to save money by pedaling the power needed to wash their dirty clothing. This way, the bike would be used; it would produce clean clothing rather than become yet another laundry hamper.

I am constantly contemplating existential questions, both personally and professionally as a therapist. These questions include things like, “What is the meaning in life? What makes all the pain worth it? Why is it that some people can find meaning in anything while others struggle and fail to find any?” All these questions point to a fact: that humans need more than just to have their physical needs met, they need to have a reason to go on.

A former teacher of mine, Rabbi Zilkovich, once said that man’s insatiable hunger is a sign of his Godliness. He said, “When a dog is full, he stops eating, there is no further reason to consume. When man is full after a long meal and the waiter brings out the dessert menu, he says, “I guess I’ll try the chocolate cream pie.” Why is that? Man has something in it him that cannot be filled, something that is always striving for more. Here we hold the dialectic of using that force to move forward in the search for meaning while recognizing that it cannot reach a state of satiation for, by definition, it is infinite.

          Victor Frankl, in his acclaimed book, Man’s Search for Meaning, states, “Ultimately, man should not ask what the meaning of his life is, but rather must recognize that it is he who is asked. In a word, each man is questioned by life; and he can only answer to life by answering for his own life; to life he can only respond by being responsible.” There is no generic answer as to where man will find the meaning he seeks, however, by taking responsibility for creating that answer he will increase his chances of finding it.

          So we ask ourselves, “What am I doing to bring meaning in to my life? At what point do I feel most fulfilled? Is it by upholding personal relationships, strengthening spiritual connection, or pursuing creative hobbies?” It is no one’s responsibility but your own to figure out what gives your life meaning.

          Some are not bothered by the question of where to find meaning. That’s okay. It doesn’t mean that their lives don’t have meaning. In fact, it may mean that they’ve figured it out without the struggle. But if you are one of those struggling with this question, don’t get distracted by looking around at others. Stay focused on finding the meaning in your own life.

In the past few weeks, so much of the world as we know it has changed, as we adapted to the reality of the recent coronavirus pandemic. In a sense our lives have slowed down. We are no longer rushing to get our children on to the school bus by 8:03 because schools are closed. Many of us are working less because most industries have been affected. We are socializing less to try to prevent the spread of the virus. We are spending less on food and are not entertaining because supplies are limited, and we are wary of germs. All these changes are slowing the natural pace of our lives. The pace that, on a regular day, gives us the same promise as the exercise bike: “Keep pedaling and you will find what you are looking for.” But now that the bikes have stopped, or at least slowed down, what do we see when we look around? We see that we are left with our families; the people who matter to us the most. We are left to face ourselves and the ways in which we handle stress. We are left with time to think, pray, focus, and breathe. I wonder if maybe we will find that our search is more readily satisfied in this new space. That maybe the meaning we seek in all that pedaling was really here, right next to the bike, all along but couldn’t be seen or heard through the whir of the pedals.

Tzipora Shub, LCSW is in private practice in Flatbush. She is a professor at Wurzweiler School of Social Work as well.