Why 'Being and Time' Still Matters: How Heidegger’s Forgotten Question Can Change Your Life

Rediscovering the Most Important Question You Never Ask

Have you ever paused, in the middle of a busy day, and wondered what it really means to exist? For most of us, the answer is no. We wake, work, scroll, sleep—convinced we know what life is, but rarely asking what it means to be. Martin Heidegger’s 'Being and Time' begins with this forgotten question, and in doing so, offers a gentle, transformative challenge to the way we live. Heidegger’s insight is deceptively simple: the most obvious things are often the most mysterious. We take our own existence for granted, and in doing so, lose touch with wonder, meaning, and even joy.

Heidegger calls this forgetfulness 'the oblivion of Being.' It’s not just an academic issue; it’s the root of much of our modern anxiety, disconnection, and sense of meaninglessness. The solution, he suggests, is not to run away from life, but to return to it—by asking, again, what it means to be. This is not a technical puzzle, but a call to rediscover the richness of everyday experience.

Heidegger’s philosophy is not just theory; it’s practice. He invites us to become 'Dasein'—the being who cares about its own existence. Dasein is not a distant observer, but you, me, anyone who wonders, 'Who am I? What am I doing here?' This existential concern is the heartbeat of a meaningful life. It’s what makes every choice, every relationship, every moment matter.

But Heidegger goes further. He shows that we are always 'being-in-the-world'—not minds trapped in bodies, but beings immersed in a context of meaning. Your morning coffee is not just a drink; it’s a ritual, a moment of care, a connection to the world. The world is not a stage, but a living web of significance. When things break—a favorite mug shatters, a relationship ends—we glimpse the hidden structure of our lives. We realize that meaning is not given, but created, moment by moment.

This realization is both humbling and empowering. It means that we are artists of our own existence, shaping our lives through care, attention, and choice. Heidegger calls this the structure of 'care.' To care is to be alive, to be open, to be vulnerable. It is what unites all we love, all we fear, all we hope for.

But care is always lived in time. We remember, we anticipate, we act. Time is not just a sequence of moments, but the horizon of our existence. To live authentically, Heidegger argues, is to face time honestly—to anticipate our possibilities, to retrieve the wisdom of our past, and to engage fully in the present. This is not easy. It requires courage, especially when we confront our own mortality. But in facing death, we are awakened to life. We realize that every moment is precious, that our choices matter, that we are free to become who we truly are.

Heidegger’s philosophy is not a recipe for happiness, but a path to authenticity. It invites us to live more awake, more gentle, more true. In a world obsessed with productivity and distraction, this is a radical act. It is the art of being—not just surviving, but living with wonder, gratitude, and hope.

So next time you find yourself lost in routine, pause. Ask yourself: What does it mean to be? The answer, as Heidegger shows, is not a conclusion, but a journey—one that can change your life.

References: Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, SoBrief, Scott H Young 1 2 4