Day 3,751
So much of the stress of life seems so minor when viewed through the same eyes which have recently read Man’s Search for Meaning. All my challenges become anthills when compared to the Himalayas of Frankl’s experiences in the concentration camps.
My heart breaks hearing the trauma so may we’re forced to endure. My blood boils at the level of hatred expressed by people towards other people. My soul soars when hearing how Frankl and others found ways to overcome and grow through those atrocities.
This quote really sums up so much of the thought process:
Viktor Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning
We who lived in concentration camps can remember the men who walked through the huts comforting others, giving away their last piece of bread. They may have been few in number, but they offer sufficient proof that everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms-to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circuit stances, to choose one’s own way.
And there were always choices to make. Every day, every hour, offered the opportunity to make a decision, a decision which determined whether you would or would not submit to those powers which threatened to rob you of your very self, your inner freedom; which determined whether or not you would become the plaything of circumstance, renouncing freedom and dignity to become molded into the form of the typical inmate.
Thanks!!!
Thankful for Forty 