The number one reason people hire me is to figure out what they’re meant to do with their life. You could say that helping people find their life’s purpose is my life’s purpose. It’s also something for which I’m insanely well-suited. As a life-long learner, Master Coach, and self-help book whore, I’ve put in a good decade studying the best ways to find your reason for being.
Purpose can be found in the intersection of our skills, experiences, and talents with our heart-centered yearnings – what we most long to contribute. Our purpose is further rooted in our core values, whether those values are play, experimentation, creativity, adventure, teaching, learning, or having fun – they don’t need to be lofty, just authentic to us. When we’re on purpose, our core values are in full blossom. Not only do we thrive, but so do the people around us.
Some of us have missions that change over time. My kids brought me infinite amounts of love and purpose for almost two decades, but their leaving the nest was a pivotal moment for me. I knew that I had a choice: continue to work in soul-sucking jobs that fed me a paycheck, or do something to satisfy my thirst for purpose, spiritual fulfillment, and joy. Needless to say, I chose the latter.
Now, when I am coaching my clients, I feel vividly alive and fully expressed.
Pursuing purpose can be exhilarating – and it can also be downright inconvenient, messy, and triggering for loved ones who want you to stay exactly the same. Change can be uncomfortable, which is why even those of us committed to making a difference may come up with a plethora of reasons why we can’t follow our path.
In fact, there can be pain – productive, but pain nonetheless – in the pursuit. “Find the one thing that breaks your heart,” says author Glennon Doyle Wambach, “and you have found your purpose.” Glennon’s purpose revealed itself through an eating disorder, alcohol addiction, and marital infidelity. Others find their path after battling serious illness, or getting fired, or struggling with infertility. A great question for those feeling frustrated or confused or lost about their life’s mission is:
“What is the most heartbreaking thing you’ve been through, and in what ways did you heal yourself?”
If some of us find our purpose in looking to our past, others may find focus by peeking into the future. Author and “America’s Life Coach” Martha Beck uses future self exercises by asking people to consider what they will be proud of having accomplished at the end of life, and to consider both how they impact the world as well as how the world impacts them. From an imaginary “deathbed” perspective, ask:
“How is the world a better place, in small ways or in large, because you have lived in it?”
“What experiences do you want to have before you die?”
“What legacy do you want to leave behind?”
Author and speaker Elizabeth Gilbert suggests that instead of a deep dive into self-examination to uncover your passion or purpose, you follow your curiosity instead. Focus on the subjects, activities, people, and places that make you feel happy and create a sense of abundance (love, joy, excitement, learning, etc.). A great question to hold lightly as you play with curiosity is:
“What article, videos, or people grasp your attention?”
Author Caroline Myss believes that taking personal time to reflect on your definition of meaning and purpose provides clarity. I couldn’t agree more. Very often, my clients’ external goals are conflated with meaning and purpose because they think that a new career or a partnership will bring meaning to their lives – not the other way around.
Purpose must come from the inside out, which makes introspective questions like these great prompts:
“What is your definition of Life Purpose?”
“Life Purpose is_____________________.”
“Life Purpose means__________________.”
Myss also suggests putting your energy into something that benefits others – making a quilt for an ailing friend, or hosting a vision board party – and then noting the impact of your actions on those around you. When you do this, Myss says, “you have not found purpose and meaning, you have earned it.”
As Myss notes, purpose is about giving, helping, and being of service to others. It’s born from our sweet spot, the place where we feel most alive, alert, and expansive. Author, researcher, and TED phenom Brené Brown nails it when she asks people to consider:
“When do you feel most alive?”
Purpose isn’t a dilettante-like yearning to be important. It’s critical to our ability to thrive. Without connection, community, and opportunities to express our unique creativity, we can’t access peace or flow, and we’re likely to feel lonely, depressed, anxious, and vulnerable to substance abuse.
What we let get in our way is our thoughts: I can’t do this. I’m not smart enough. No one will like me. My family will be angry. These thoughts murder our courage and our willingness to try, and we end up hiding from ourselves and the world in exchange for safety and familiarity. But there’s nothing peaceful about staying inside our comfort zone. That space of seeming comfort becomes a jail cell, and we, prisoners within it.
I got an early wake-up call twenty years ago, when my magnanimous uncle died of a horrific cancer. I never told him what he truly meant to me. Worse, I’m pretty sure that I said every wrong thing anyone could say to a dying person. But his death taught me that we are merely renting these human fallible vessels, and that we have a shelf life that can expire without warning.
Our true mission in life is doing what makes us feel vital, connected, alert, and creative – it’s our why. It’s the reason we jump out of the bed in the morning, it’s what keeps us inspired when we’re tired, and it’s what keeps us going in spite of the roadblocks or external noise.
Your purpose is not about the guy, the money, the job, or the weight. It’s not “being busy,” a frantic state that doesn’t give your life meaning and is disrespectful of the most precious resource you have: time. Purpose, rather, is about using your spirit in service of others. Now that’s something worth living for.
