Are You My Purpose?

Remember that book, Are You My Mother? The one with the baby bird? Hatches, no mom, total existential crisis. He goes around asking everyone – a dog, a hen, a steam shovel – "Are you my mother?"

It's cute. It's also been stuck in my head for a month. Like one of those sticky hands from a vending machine. You know, the ones that picked up every piece of lint imaginable? Yeah, that kind.

But instead of lint, it's picking up this question I keep asking myself. And a question I hear from my clients all the time.

"Are you my purpose?"

I flit between tasks. New idea pops up? Are you my purpose? Finish a big project, feel that momentary high? PURPOSE! I AM HERE! I practically shout it at the metaphorical steam shovel.

Then, crash. Doubt creeps in. The high fades. And I'm left thinking, "Oops. Maybe not."

Sound familiar?

It's exhausting, right? This constant chase. This need to arrive at some grand, final destination called Purpose. Declaring "I'M HERE!" only to feel silly five minutes later.

I started to get curious about why I do this. Why the constant labeling? Why the urgency?

And then it hit me: It's the shame. The shame of not having it all figured out. The shame of daring to think I even have a singular purpose.

But here's the thing about those big declarations – the "THIS IS IT!" moments. They're beautiful. They're not about finding the answer. They're about committing to the process. They're about passionately declaring my love for life.

The problem isn't the declaring. It's the needing to arrive. The belief that there's a finish line.

And honestly, I don't blame myself for thinking that way. We're taught this. Reward comes after labor. Rest comes after the work is done. Retirement is some far-off, mythical land you only reach after decades of toil.

No retiring as you go, apparently. No resting along the way. Just keep pushing. That goalpost? Oh, it didn't move. You just... didn't see it right. Keep going!

It's crushing. This outcome-driven life. Because when we're obsessed with the outcome, we're not really living. We're just... laboring. No wonder I keep ending up back in survival mode. It's all I've been taught to strive for.

So, what now?

For me, it's about remembering that purpose isn't a destination. It's not a thing to be found.

It's a bunch of little things. Tiny actions. Moments of intention. A continuous turning back to myself. A slow unveiling.

It's about expressing myself. Relating to the world, to other people. Using those connections – those "bouncing off points," as I like to call them – to get clearer on what I want to bring to life.

It's about the journey, not the steam shovel.

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Want to Stop Asking the Steam Shovel? Try This:

Okay, so maybe you're tired of interrogating heavy machinery. Maybe you're ready to ditch the frantic purpose search that leaves you frazzled and disheartened. Here are a few things that have helped me (and might help you) shift from "Are you my mother?" to "Hey, I'm kinda digging this journey!":

1. Micro-Purpose Moments: Forget the grand, sweeping purpose statement. For one day, just focus on finding tiny moments of purpose. Did you make someone laugh? Purpose. Did you water a plant? Purpose. Did you enjoy that first sip of coffee? Bam. Purpose. String those tiny moments together. It's like building with LEGOs, but less painful when you step on them.
2. The "Almost!" Party: Every time you have one of those "THIS IS IT!" moments (even if it fizzles later), throw yourself a mini-celebration. Do a little dance. Eat a cookie. Acknowledge the feeling. Don't let the "oops, maybe not" steal the joy of the initial spark. It was data. It may even be part of the puzzle that clicks into the right spot down the road.
3. Rest is NOT a Reward (It's Fuel): Seriously. Stop thinking of rest as something you "earn" after achieving X, Y, or Z. Rest is the fuel that lets you do X, Y, and Z. Schedule it in. Five minutes of deep breathing. Ten minutes staring out the window. A whole afternoon doing absolutely nothing. Your inner baby bird will thank you. You are worthy of rest at all times. (BTW - this is the work we do together in my community of practice. Hop on my calendar if you want to learn more about it).
4. Embrace the Zigzag: Your path to purpose probably won't be a straight line. It'll be a glorious, messy zigzag. Embrace the detours. The unexpected turns. The moments where you feel completely lost. They're all part of the adventure. Think of it as a scenic route, not a wrong turn.
5. Inner Bird, Outer World: Remember, the baby bird was looking outward for its mother. But your purpose? It starts within. Connect with yourself. What lights you up? What makes you curious? Then, take those inner sparks and connect them to the world. How can you share them? How can you use them to connect with others? That's where the magic happens.

Slow down, you’re doing fine.

There is no singular answer. It's a process of unfolding. It's a messy, beautiful, sometimes frustrating, and ultimately incredibly rewarding process. Be kind to yourself. Keep exploring. And maybe, just maybe, lay off the heavy machinery for a while (a.k.a your problem-solving brain).