Meaning As Daily Devotion: Kierkegaard’s Quiet Task
Created at: September 22, 2025
Forging meaning is an act of daily devotion. — Søren Kierkegaard
The Single Individual at the Forge
Beginning with Kierkegaard’s emphasis on inwardness, the aphorism frames life as a workshop where the individual hammers purpose from the raw ore of experience. Concluding Unscientific Postscript (1846) declares “subjectivity is truth,” placing the weight of meaning on the choices of the single individual rather than on public opinion or abstract systems. In this light, devotion is not sentiment but a steady attendance at the anvil of each day—showing up, heating doubts, and striking them into form. The imagery invites patience and courage, while implying that meaning is not found intact but fashioned through effort. From this stance flows a second insight: practice is the medium of becoming.
Repetition as Creative Discipline
From solitary responsibility arises repetition as a generative art. In Repetition (1843), Kierkegaard explores how the everyday can be renewed rather than merely rerun, suggesting that fidelity to small commitments gives life its shape. Likewise, Either/Or (1843) contrasts the aesthetic life of novelty with the ethical life of chosen constancy; meaning coheres when promises are kept across mornings. Habit, then, is not mechanical surrender but intentional form: a scaffolding for freedom. As routines accumulate, they bind time into a narrative arc—yet they also prepare the soul for something deeper than resolution alone.
Faith in the Ordinary
As habits take root, they open toward faith lived in plain clothes. Fear and Trembling (1843) depicts the ‘knight of faith’ who appears ordinary—buying bread, chatting with neighbors—while inwardly resting in the Absolute. Devotion here is daily, not dramatic: a repeated assent to trust amid uncertainty. The so‑called “leap” is less a one‑time stunt than a continual re‑orientation, practiced in the mundane. Thus the ordinary day becomes a liturgy of meaning, sanctified not by spectacle but by constancy. Yet this constancy must also contend with a familiar adversary: despair.
Against Despair, a Daily Cure
In The Sickness Unto Death (1849), despair is a misrelation of the self—to itself and to God—that corrodes purpose. The antidote is not a single epiphany but a regimen of re‑alignment, renewed each day. The Present Age (1846) warns that “the crowd is untruth,” so the devoted life requires both solitude and courage to resist leveling forces. By returning daily to prayer, reflection, or honest work, the self becomes rightly related and less porous to distraction. Once steadied, this inward devotion must take outward form, where meaning matures into a shared good.
Love as Work, Not Sentiment
Consequently, Works of Love (1847) grounds devotion in neighbor-love—patient, concrete, and repeatable. Love is a task, not a mood: visiting the sick, forgiving an offense, keeping a promise. Each act welds the self to a purpose beyond vanity, drawing the solitary individual into responsibility for another. In this way, meaning is not only forged within but forged between, as daily service clarifies who we are by whom we serve. Strikingly, these theological insights find resonance in modern accounts of meaning‑making.
Modern Echoes and Empirical Parallels
Viktor Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning (1946) shows how responsibility to a task or person sustains life even amid suffering, while behavioral activation research suggests that mood often follows meaningful action. Dan McAdams’s work on narrative identity argues that we author purpose by integrating our choices into a coherent story. Similarly, narrative therapy (Michael White and David Epston, 1990) helps people re‑author daily practices to embody preferred identities. Taken together, these echoes affirm Kierkegaard’s intuition: meaning grows where responsibility is repeatedly enacted. The remaining question is how to begin—and begin again.
Practices for the Daily Forge
Finally, devotion becomes tangible through small, renewable rites: morning intention‑setting, a brief examen at night, regular service to a neighbor, sabbath rest, and undistracted craft. Tish Harrison Warren’s Liturgy of the Ordinary (2016) illustrates how everyday routines can carry transcendent weight. Start where you stand: make one promise you can keep today, and keep it tomorrow. Like a smith returning to the anvil, you return to your vows; the metal hardens not from one blow, but from many. Over time, the ordinary day—repeated and received—becomes a meaningful life.