Something Is Missing in My Life: Often It's a Question
When something feels missing, most advice says to add something: a purpose, a hobby, more gratitude. For a man who has built a lot, it can be a question he hasn't asked yet. Where it tends to show up, one way to look for it this week, and when it's more than a feeling.
It tends to show up at odd times.
On the drive home after a good week. At a table full of people he loves. In the parking lot after a meeting that went exactly the way he planned it.
Something is missing. He couldn't tell you what. Most days he doesn't say it at all.
If he typed that sentence into a search bar, he'd find plenty of answers, and most of them would suggest adding something: a purpose, a passion, a practice, more connection. Some of that may help. This page looks at another possibility: that what's missing is less a thing than a question.
Is it normal to feel like something is missing?
It's common, and often unspoken.
For men who have built something, it often shows up after the building is mostly done. The business runs. The kids are grown, or close to it. The house is mostly paid off. For years, aiming at the next thing gave the days their shape. When less needs building, there's more quiet, and the feeling has room to be heard.
Feeling it doesn't mean the life is wrong. It doesn't mean anything has to be torn down, either.
Is it the same as being unhappy when I have everything?
There isn't one answer, and only you can say what it is for you. Two essays here look at it from different sides.
Why am I unhappy when I have everything? looks at the argument many men have with themselves about it (look at what you have, you've no right to feel this) and at the difference between running a life and being in it. Successful but unhappy looks at why the next win doesn't fill the gap.
This page asks a narrower question: when something feels missing, what kind of thing is it, and how would you find out?
What the usual advice gets right, and where it stops
Most of what you'll read says something like this: find your purpose. Reconnect with people. Practice gratitude. Pick up a hobby. Take care of your health. Get some quiet.
None of that is bad advice. Sleep, friends and time outdoors can help. If one of them has gone missing, it's worth getting back.
But nearly all of it has the same shape. The missing piece is a thing, and the fix is to add it. A man who has built something knows that shape well. He's spent decades adding things: the next truck, the next hire, the next location. If adding one more thing were going to reach this, it might have by now.
Sometimes what's missing isn't something to add. It's a question that hasn't been asked yet.
Often it's a question, not a thing
For a lot of men, the feeling isn't spread evenly across the week. It gathers around one decision that keeps getting put off.
The decision on top usually looks reasonable. Sell or hold. Call him or wait. Say something or let it go. A man can write the pros and cons, get good advice, and still not decide. Often that's because the list answers the question on top, and the one under it hasn't been asked.
Three places it often shows up:
Selling, or holding on. The offer is good and the numbers work. The decision still won't come, and nobody at the table has asked what the days look like after.
A grown son gone quiet. He used to call. Now there's a text you meant to answer, and you're not sure what you'd say.
A marriage gone polite. Nobody's fighting. You split the calendar and talk about the house, and somewhere in there it got quiet.
Each of those pages has the opening of The Accountable Life, free to read, no email needed. The man in it has all three going on at once.
If none of those three is yours, the shape may still fit: one decision that keeps getting put off, with something under it.
Something is missing in my life, but I don't know what
You don't have to know what's missing to start looking. Try this for one week.
Write down the decision you keep putting off. One sentence, the way you'd say it to your accountant or your wife.
Under it, write what you still wouldn't know if it were settled tomorrow. If the company sold tomorrow, what would Monday be for? If he called back tomorrow, what would you want him to hear? If she asked tomorrow how you're really doing, what would you say?
Don't try to answer those yet. Notice which one you'd rather not write down. That one may be closer to it than the decision is.
At the end of the week, read what you wrote. It won't fill anything in. It gives you something specific to look at, instead of a feeling with no words on it.
When it's more than a feeling
If the something-missing comes with a low mood that doesn't lift, trouble sleeping, losing interest in most things, or drinking more than you'd like, a doctor or therapist fits. Only they can tell you what it is. That's their work, not a coach's.
If you're in crisis, a therapist or doctor is the first call. If anyone is in danger right now, call 911; in the US call or text 988.
Coaching is not therapy, medical care, or business strategy.
If you'd rather talk it through
The coaching on this site is with Daniel Walker: 25 years in business; 5 years in law enforcement with the sheriff's office; hundreds of men coached one-on-one; author of The Accountable Life and Nobody's Watching.
It starts with the private session, below.
If one decision keeps getting put off
Bring it as you'd put it. Seventy-five minutes, one-on-one, $297: we look for the question under it, and you leave with one next step, written by you. Sending the request charges nothing; the $297 is paid once we've set a time.
Patterns in this essay: Starting to Change