What's my purpose?
The omnipresent question that we ask ourselves at life's many crossroads.
When we think about purpose, we often think in terms of our self-identified roles in society. We make those roles our identity. Yet I believe our identity does not equate directly with our purpose. What are we really asking ourselves when we ask that question? Do I matter? What am I here to give? What am I allowed to want? What is my reason for existing? When we are at junctures in our lives where these questions arise, it is often because something is missing, something deeper that lies below the surface. We often can’t pinpoint that missing piece because it has become so deeply buried within us over time that we feel we have lost access to it or can’t even recognize that it was ever there in the first place.
What is that missing something?
Is it different for each of us? Perhaps on a superficial level, but I would like to offer another deeper possibility. What if your purpose is exactly the same as mine, and exactly the same as every other human being on this planet? If you are confused by this question, I understand. I would have been too. The older version of me would ask the "what’s my purpose?" question, and my answer would have been to be a mother, a wife, a doctor, and a good human being who contributes to the world in some way. I didn’t think much deeper than that until I was at my own crossroads and lost footing in my life with the sudden, unexpected death of my husband. Everything I thought I knew about myself and who I was in the world was uprooted, leaving me unsteady and confused.
How did I regain my footing and come to the conclusion that your purpose and my purpose are one and the same? It began in the throes of grief and, over time, morphed into an inner reckoning.
Initially, without intention, I began to face my reality head-on and confront the hard truths about myself and my life.
Honestly, those truths were so deeply buried, so deeply hidden, that I was not aware they even existed. And then, almost reluctantly, I started experimenting with what I had previously written off. A little meditation here and there, an increased interest in spirituality where there had been none before, somatic and self-reflection guided by my coach, who could hold the thread when I couldn’t, along with the love and support of family and friends. It was in those moments, ever so slowly, layer by layer, that the parts of me that were buried and suppressed started to rise to the surface. It wasn’t easy, and it was often painful. It would have been easier to push it back down, keep it suppressed, pretend it wasn’t there. But I learned that by allowing it to rise to the surface, it no longer had the same hold on me. I could learn to accept those parts of myself with grace and compassion rather than shame and guilt, and I began taking responsibility for the person I was and for who I could choose to be. A new kind of lightness began to appear in my life.
Throughout that process, I continued to ask the question, " What’s my purpose?”
But in the process of shedding layer after layer of armor that had protected me and served me well for much of my life, I realized that my true self was still inside, long forgotten. And it was only then, as I got closer and closer to that long forgotten person, did I come to realize that that was, is, and will continue to be my purpose- to be unequivocally, wholly, and authentically me, without all the armor, without all the emotional baggage, and without all of the conditioning and societal expectations placed on me.
And that is where I came to believe that my purpose is the same as yours and every other human being's: to find our way back to who we truly are at our core. That in all of our attempts to find our place in the world, we may be looking in the wrong place. It is only when we return to who we truly are, without the baggage we carry and the armor that protects us, that our place in this life and our way of being, living, loving, and leading become natural, instinctual, and clear.
My inner work is not done.
Just when I think I’ve got this, more things begin to surface. It will always be a work in progress. But what began as my inner evolution is now evolving into my outer revolution. My mission now is to spread this truth to those who are willing to venture into the areas of themselves they have often unknowingly avoided. Yes, I am a physician, but now I am also a coach supporting people on that journey to find the truth within themselves so that they may live the life that is truly theirs. I might call that “my purpose” now, but I could not have seen it then, not while I was still living under the weight of my armor.
What if your purpose is not something you achieve, but instead something you remember: the truth of who you are? What would change about the life you’re living?
