A man once wrote a letter to the Lubavitcher Rebbe ztz"l and complained. I am miserable. I keep mitzvos but they don't move me. I daven but don't feel the words. I feel empty, etc. etc. etc.
The Rebbe answered without one word. He just circled all of the places he wrote "I". Meaning you are miserable because you are so immersed in your "I".
This is the true joy in life, the being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one; the being a force of nature instead of a feverish selfish clod of ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy. I am of the opinion that my life belongs to the whole community and as long as I live it is my privilege to do for it whatever I can. I want to be thoroughly used up when I die, for the harder I work, the more I live. I rejoice in life for its own sake. Life is no 'brief candle' to me. It is sort of a splendid torch which I have a hold of for the moment, and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing it over to future generations.
