This is perhaps one of the oldest questions we’ve ever asked across cultures, philosophies, and religions:
Why are we here? What is our purpose?
I used to search for a fixed answer. I thought there had to be one some grand, overarching reason written into the fabric of the universe.
But over time, I’ve grown into a different understanding.
To me, the most honest answer is this: The purpose of living is to live.
To breathe. To grow. To stumble, get up, love, learn, and simply be.
I find that liberating rather than bleak. We're not beholden to a cosmic script. We're not waiting for instructions from above.
We create our own purpose and it shifts as we do.
When I was a young student in nursing school, my vision of purpose was clear. I dreamed of rising through the ranks, one day becoming a Director of Nursing or even a Chief Nursing Officer. That goal gave me drive, clarity, a sense of identity. But life, as it does, brought new chapters. I got married.
I started a family. Suddenly, purpose took on a different shape. It wasn’t about titles anymore — it was about presence. About being there for those who needed me most in that season of life.
And I carry no regrets. Because I believe that every purpose is valid for its moment. It doesn't have to last a lifetime to matter. Like a candle lighting a path in the dark, it only needs to serve its time.
These days, I don’t chase the question of “What is my purpose?” as I once did. Instead, I’ve learned to ask myself:
“This is who I am. This is what I’ve become. This is where I am right now. So how can I make this journey meaningful, even beautiful, from here?”
That question grounds me. It reminds me that purpose doesn’t always arrive like thunder from the sky.
Sometimes, it’s gentle like a cat curling up next to you without asking for anything. Sometimes it looks like showing up for a friend. Or holding space for a stranger. Or giving your best in a quiet moment that no one else sees.
We’re here, I believe, not because of a divine plan, but because life made us possible.
And that’s enough.
We can find meaning in the living not just in the asking.
