It is only when I am doing my work that I feel truly alive.
Federico Fellini, master of vision and dream, once declared: “It is only when I am doing my work that I feel truly alive.” In these words resounds the timeless cry of the artist, who finds in work not burden but breath, not duty but the very pulse of existence. For to create is to touch the eternal, to step beyond mere survival into the realm where spirit and craft meet, and where life itself reveals its meaning.
The ancients knew this truth well. They told of the sculptor who felt his heart beat strongest when shaping marble, of the poet whose spirit soared only when his words became song. For them, as for Fellini, work was not drudgery, but a sacred act—an offering to the gods, a harmony with the cosmos. To labor in one’s true calling was to become more than mortal, to taste immortality in the act of creation.
Fellini speaks not of just any labor, but of his work, the calling uniquely his. This is the deeper wisdom: that each soul carries within it a task that awakens its fire. Many live as shadows, performing duties that drain rather than enliven. But when one finds that work which aligns with the essence of the soul, time itself transforms. Hours cease to weigh; they flow like a river, and in that flow, the worker is most alive.
This teaching also carries a challenge. To seek the work that makes you alive is not easy—it demands courage, sacrifice, and often defiance of what the world expects. Yet the reward is great: for one moment of true creation outweighs years of lifeless toil. The ancients would say that a man without his calling is like a harp unplayed, existing but silent; but when strung and played, he fills the air with music.
Let the generations remember: life is not measured only in breaths or years, but in the fire of moments when the soul and its labor become one. Seek your work, the craft that awakens you, and in it you will discover not only purpose but being itself. As Fellini teaches, to labor in your true art is not to live like others—it is to live more deeply, more fully, more eternally. For in such work, you do not merely exist—you are truly alive.
AOah28 Oanh
Fellini’s quote speaks to the deep connection between work and identity. It’s fascinating how he links the act of creating to being truly alive. But it also raises a question—if we feel ‘alive’ only when working, what happens when we take a break or retire? Is there a danger of defining ourselves solely through our work, or is that sense of aliveness something we can cultivate in other areas of life as well?
CTchau tai
I find this quote both inspiring and a bit intimidating. Federico Fellini seems to suggest that work is the ultimate way to feel alive, but for many people, work can be draining or less fulfilling. Can it be that he found such vitality in his work because he was so passionate about it? It makes me think about how different people find meaning in various aspects of life, not just in their career. Does passion for work always have to be a prerequisite for feeling alive?
DHChu Duc Hieu
This quote resonates with me because it brings up the idea that passion for one’s work can give life deeper meaning. But what happens when someone doesn’t feel this way about their work? Is it possible to feel ‘alive’ in other parts of life, like through relationships or personal projects, if your job doesn’t provide that sense of purpose? How important is it for someone to feel fulfilled in their career in order to truly feel alive?
UNUyen Nhi
Federico Fellini’s quote is powerful. It suggests that his work is not just a job, but the very thing that gives his life meaning and purpose. It makes me wonder, though—how many of us can say that about our own work? Is work supposed to be the thing that makes us feel truly alive, or is it a sign of finding fulfillment in what we do? How do we balance work with other life experiences that might also bring us joy?