A Year of Purpose
Why purpose and connection intertwine
It’s been a year since I left NY on a roadtrip with no destination.
And it’s fitting that I felt called to focus on Purpose for the month of March. This time last year, I was writing about my fears that I was holding the wrong identity, and that maybe I would always be in a state of leaving; that leaving was my purpose.
For me, similar to clarity, purpose isn’t something sitting outside of us. It isn’t waiting for us to find it sitting on a yellow brick road in the middle of nowhere. It’s not in the treasure we find in the desert after the long quest we embark on (You really need to read The Alchemist). Purpose is a series of decisions, habits, and passions that we are drawn to, or choose, that begin to point us in an energetic direction.
If you’re in a spiral, constantly asking yourself what your purpose is or what your talents are or what you’re meant to do, then answer this:
If you knew your purpose, if your purpose was written out clearly for you, would you change the decisions you were making right now? Would you change your daily choices to fit that purpose you now know? Or would your life be mostly unchanged?
If you would change most of your daily habits and choices, then chances are you’re not living in alignment.
It’s hard to admit to ourselves because it really is that simple.
I recently found an old letter from a friend I got in college. They wrote to remind me not to worry too much about learning my purpose or discovering my talents. They reminded me that I had to follow my heart and that the rest would fall into place. Very “The Alchemist” messaging.
I was someone who was constantly worrying and struggling with what my path was meant to be. I was always told what I was good at and what I should pursue, never really holding space for myself to discover what I actually enjoyed. For most of my childhood I was called an artist, even though I only began painting about six years ago. I don’t know why I was considered the artsy kid, other than coming home covered in Sharpie drawings on my arms whenever I got bored in school. And when I did discover I was artistic, it felt like a service that people wanted from me, not a talent that was truly mine. Design this. Paint that. You can whip up a tattoo, right?
I felt like an imposter for a long time. I struggled with that identity because I didn’t feel like I was actively pursuing what people saw me as. I was only creating when I was called upon for a design or piece from someone I cared about. I wasn’t constantly working on my craft. I wasn’t studying art in college. I wasn’t building a portfolio. I wanted my purpose to fully consume me. I wanted passion to pour from my veins and bleed into every part of my experience. And being an “artist,” just never clicked in that way. Part of me wanted to rebel and break down that identity and another part of me so desperately wanted to prove I was what people saw in me.
I would create ink drawings, digital works, I began painting, I would write short stories. I kept creating and creating and nothing felt like me. Surely my work would feel so connected to me that it could not be separated, right? But I would make these works and stories in a daze, a creative flow maybe, and then when I finished, I would become so detached from it that I wanted to be rid of it.
Now that I’m writing that I kind of sound like a frat bro that immediately leaves after sex.
But that’s how I felt. And I didn’t really begin releasing that frustration with purpose until I began my roadtrip to nowhere last year.
I left with the intention of leaving what I thought my purpose was. I wanted to burn every identity in the desert and see what would emerge.
I didn’t create art in those 4 months. I wrote my experience. I doodled a bit. But I didn’t create how I used to. It came secondary to the living.
I didn’t know anyone in the places of these trips. I just shot my energy West and hoped it would lead me somewhere.
And in that journey, I was continuously surprised by how much connection I found.
On top of being “artsy,” I was also often called shy, quiet, reserved. So I didn’t really expect to find deep connections along these roads, but I was constantly reminded how naturally connection gravitates towards me.
During my time in Denver, I was sitting on a balcony with a new friend. We both felt this strong pull towards each other and I had told her that I see her light and that I had love for her. She cried and told me she’s never felt so seen before.
I had a picnic with another new friend who told me she hopes one day I see how deeply I affect others; how safe and held I make others feel.
I even took care of a dog for a few days because he came over and sat on me in the park and the owner ended up talking to me and asking if I wanted to watch him. His name is Miles and he carried around a teddy bear everywhere.
When I started releasing all the ideas I had about purpose the more connection I found. And for me, that’s the point.
Purpose is nothing without connection.
If your purpose is as an artist. What are you connecting to? You’re connecting to the intention of your art, the viewers who find deep resonance with your art, the people you meet through your journey, the idea you begin to shape through your craft.
If you’re a writer, a film director, a Reiki practitioner, a dentist, a teacher; you are nothing if you did not have connection.
On the road, purpose has evolved away from a path I continue to seek and into a trail of connections I make along my journey. One day I’ll look back and see that red thread and know that I lived my purpose because I always lived in connection.
Could purpose be hindsight?
One of my favorite artists, Timothy Goodman, often talks about connection and how important street art is for communities. His art is deeply personal, political, and focused on pushing our minds and our actions. His new book continues that focus, highlighting heartbreak and vulnerability in his life.
If you’re looking for that “purpose,” I recommend listening to him on the Good Life Project; he goes through his journey, being arrested, getting into drugs, barely making it through high school, to meeting a mentor during his years of painting houses, finding art in his early 20’s, and ultimately becoming a well-known artist working with people from Sharpie to Nike, designing KD 15’s.
He has a love of community, of basketball, of mental health, and ultimately uses his passions to create art that moves not only himself, but the connections he’s built. He’s a good reminder that following what lights you up can lead you to some extraordinary places. But, you won’t always see the path until you look back on what you’ve left.
But, if we take the approach that purpose is hindsight, then what do we focus our time on in the present? Where do we go if we don’t know the path?
“Seek patience and passion in equal amounts. Patience alone will not build the temple. Passion alone will destroy its walls.”
— Maya Angelou
As I’ve released this necessity for purpose I’ve begun to ask myself two things for every decision:
Does this decision show me I love myself?
Can I move towards this desire or idea passionately and patiently?
I mean, we all have wanted to be rock stars at one point…maybe just me. But not all of us have the patience to focus our energy towards rock stardom.
There will be trial and error. There will be shifts. You won’t always be focused on that “passion,” but you will discover what brings you that trail of connections. I can say all the times I’ve tried to leave art, I have always come back to it with more passion and a deeper respect. I connect through art, in all forms, in a way that I haven’t experienced in other “passions” I have explored.
Another episode I love is with Jay Shetty and Alex Cooper on overcoming self-doubt.
I think a lot of us struggle to move forward, not because we don’t know our purpose, but because we hold self-doubt.
Something that has helped me when I am overwhelmed by the future is pretend life is Sims.
I do this a few different ways.
When I’m really stuck I write a day in the life of my Now Avatar. Just a short story about what the current avatar (you right now) would do in a day, how they would feel, how they would show up.
Then, I write a short story about my Desired Avatar. What does that Avatar do in a day? Who are they friends with? Who do they love? What are they passionate about? I get as specific as possible. Like a full hour HBO Max episode.
And then I sit with the energies. How similar are they?
How do the energies feel?
Can I embody the energy of the Desired Avatar? Even for a minute?
Doing this isn’t to make you despondent and questioning your life choices. This is just to shift your energy and point it in a new direction. If you don’t know what your Desired Avatar could be then instead I suggest doing an exercise I learned from business coach Kinzie Madsen.
Get really still and centered. Imagine you’re entering into the void. When you feel free and safe, visualize polaroids swirling around you. They’re all from your future you. Think about an emotion you want to experience in the future. Freedom? Joy? Safety?
Now reach out and grab a polaroid from the near future. What do you see? What energy does that memory hold?
Write it all down.
That’s the energy you can focus on embodying. That’s what to move towards.
Next month I’ll be starting a Meeting Yourself program for paid subscribers. Each week, we’ll move through a module similar to the Desired Avatar exercise and opening ourselves up to a new experience of self.
If you’d like to join, subscribe below! You can cancel at any time.
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