Who Do We Live For? What Is Your Purpose in Life?

Venerable Thich Chan Quang poses the question, "Who do we live for?" to encourage each person to reflect on their purpose in life. He invites us to distinguish between living by instinct and living with an ideal, guiding us toward finding a noble reason for our existence.

Once, a young woman sent a message to her former lover asking, "Are you well?" He replied joyfully, "I am fine, my dear! I miss you so much!" She responded, "Oh, are you still alive? I thought you had died. When we were together, you said that if you no longer had me, you would die immediately. Yet two months later, you are still here."

This amusing story makes us laugh, but behind it lies a serious question: Who are we living for? Have you ever paused amidst the rush of daily life to ask yourself this?

Asking "Who do we live for?" is a step toward awakening. Venerable Thich Chan Quang begins his dharma talk with this anecdote to lead into the main issue. He explains that throughout our lives, there is someone or something upon which we place our existence. Why do we live? Who do we live for?

Most of us did not consider this when we were children. Kids simply live by instinct: eating, sleeping, and playing. But as we grow up, having love, a career, or children, we begin to anchor our lives in these things. At that point, the question becomes vital because it determines the value of our life.

The teacher clearly distinguishes between two types of people. The first type lives by instinct, driven only by the fear of death and the desire to survive. They are pushed around by life without knowing what they truly live for. The second type has a clear purpose and an ideal. They know why they act and are willing to sacrifice for that cause.

He emphasizes that anyone who can answer the question "Why do you live?" possesses a clear purpose. Living with intention is precious. It gives us motivation to strive and faith in tomorrow. Conversely, without an answer to this question, life feels vague and meaningless.

Common purposes range from family to country. When asked, "Who do you live for?" many parents reply, "I live for my children." This answer stems from love and responsibility. Parental love is a natural virtue and a noble thing. However, interestingly, when we ask the children, "Who do you live for?" almost none say, "I live for my parents." Instead, they live for their future, their careers, their partners, or their own children.

According to the teacher, this is a natural law of life. Parents live for their children, while children will live for life itself, for humanity, and for future endeavors that benefit society, the nation, and the world. This is the evolutionary flow of humankind. If children only lived for their parents, life would stagnate. We cannot force them back into the past; instead, we must encourage them to open their hearts to the world.

Soldiers live for their country, teachers for their students, scientists for discovery, and artists for art. Each finds a beautiful purpose. Yet, there is a common thread: within all these purposes, a subtle sense of self remains hidden. It may be pride, glory, or one’s image. This is not yet perfect.

When a purpose is lost, danger arises. In his teaching, the master addresses suicide. Those who take their own lives often lose their purpose, their faith, or their loved ones. To help them, we must offer new hope and a new reason to live.

He shares a story about a man who lost everything gambling on football and wanted to jump off a building. One might advise him: "Please stay alive to gamble again. But this time, do not bet on the ball. Bet on cause and effect (karmic law). Live and play football. But what kind? Play the game of merit and demerit. Guard your life, keep the ball of your life from rolling into darkness."

The image of the "ball of karma" is vivid. Each of us is a player and a goalkeeper. We must guard our conscience and uphold cause and effect (karmic law) to avoid falling into the abyss. Finding a new purpose gives the desperate person the strength to continue.

We should aim for a purpose rooted in non-self (anatta), which brings nobility and peace. After discussing worldly purposes, the teacher looks deeper. He realizes that the "self" always lurks in every purpose. Even living for children, spouses, or country contains a hint of selfishness—a desire to be loved, respected, or safe. True liberation comes when we dedicate our lives to higher ideals: the Buddha's teachings (Dharma), sentient beings, and compassion.

Those who devote their entire mind and heart to the Buddha's teachings (Dharma) and to saving sentient beings are called true practitioners. This is the ideal of monastics: nothing left for the ego, only the vow to save the world. Though they may not have fully attained enlightenment, they renounce worldly pleasures to walk the path of awakening. Such people, even if their practice is imperfect, are worthy of respect because they live for something sacred.

Finally, the teacher asks each of us: At this moment, who do we live for? If you have no answer, you may still be living by instinct. But it is never too late to awaken. Pause, look into your heart, and find what truly makes you live. It could be a person, an ideal, a career, or perhaps, an eternal truth.

When you find your purpose, life becomes lighter, meaningful, and full of strength. You will no longer fear adversity because you know where you are going. And when you feel lost, stop, breathe deeply, and tell yourself: "I live for this, for this person, for this faith."

May you always have a beautiful answer to the question, "Who do we live for?"