You don’t have to be a Giraffe to know about meaning.

Isn’t it true that the more meaning there is in the things you do—work, relationships, activities—the more alive you feel? You may work very hard and there may be trials, but there's also an energy, a sense of excitement, a deep satisfaction of being in the right place at the right time. You’re more inspiring to others, who are more likely to follow your lead. And you’re much more likely to get the results you want.

Are you with me here?

We all at least start out wanting a life that's meaningful. We want to be able to look at ourselves in the mirror and know that who we are and what we're doing matters, that we're not just marking time. We want to feel a purpose for our lives that fulfills us. That makes us come alive.

But I'm guessing that, as you look around in your world, you won't see a lot of people who actually gain this kind of fulfillment. You know people, perhaps in your own family, who involve themselves in work and relationships and other activities that don’t have much meaning for them. It’s very hard for them to put focus or energy into what they’re doing. At best they end up just going through the motions. Sometimes it seems, watching them, that they’re slogging through wet concrete.

People like these are the living dead. You don’t want to end up that way.

But let’s face it, there’s a lot that can get in the way of pursuing a meaningful life, that can push us into the ranks of the living dead.

One thing that can get in the way is stuff. Turn on the television. You're living in a culture that would like you to believe that your true worth is in what you buy. But when's the last time something you bought made your life meaningful, or even made you feel good—for very long?

Chasing status and power is another way to miss having a meaningful life. Most of these kinds of temptations are ahead of you, but I guarantee you, from my own life, that they are there and they are powerful and seductive.

So if meaning is this important—to me, to Giraffes, to you—we might ask where meaning comes from?

Here’s a story that may help:

The scene is thirteenth-century Paris, where construction is in progress on the cathedral of Notre Dame. An onlooker—call him the world’s first management consultant—watches three people at work: two stonecutters and an old woman who sweeps up the broken pieces of stone.

The consultant asks the first stonecutter what he’s doing. The man says, “I’m cutting stones, and that puts meat and potatoes on the table for my family.”

The consultant asks the same question of the second stone cutter, and that man answers, “I’m making a gargoyle for the top of the west buttress.”

Then the consultant asks the old woman what she’s doing. She stops moving her broom and turns to look at the place in the sky where the great spires will eventually rise, decades after she is dead. Then she turns back and says, “I, sir, am helping build a great cathedral where people can talk to God.”

The moral of the story is that people like that woman, people like Giraffes, people like you and me—find meaning not in possessions or positions, but in personal commitments to ideals bigger than our own needs. And the ideals that seem to consistently provide this kind of meaning are ideals of service—of acting for the common good and overcoming whatever risks and obstacles may lie in the way.

So it just makes sense to ask yourself some tough questions about meaning, and to reflect on the answers:

Ask these questions.

Keep asking yourself these questions, no matter how old you are. They are just too important.

And promise yourself that you will never stay stuck in something that no longer has meaning for you. Else your passion and enthusiasm dies. Part of you dies.