How many times have you wondered, What is my purpose in life?
How many days, weeks, or months have you spent trying to figure it out? Trying to find the perfect job, house, soulmate, or car?
Today, an old blog post I had written popped up, and I found myself rereading it. It was one of the first posts I wrote when I started blogging.
I talked about how everyone kept asking me what I was going to write about.
I had no idea.
I just knew I wanted to blog.
And the more people asked me, the more I started questioning myself.
In that blog, I wrote:
“I want to make a difference with my words. I want to use my voice. I want to empower people, to spread love. When I think about my favorite singers and writers, I love their work because they create a feeling. That is what I have always wanted to do. There is a power in words, and I want to use mine to build.”
I’ve spent so much time trying to figure out my purpose and my end goal that I forgot how simple a purpose in life can be.
When my dad passed away, a woman shared a story about him with me.
She told me about a Thanksgiving when she was working at the gas station down the street. My dad showed up with a plate of food for her.
She said he had no idea what it meant to her, but it meant so much, especially at that time in her life.
And honestly? Her sharing that story with me meant a lot to me at that time, too.
To know that my dad had touched her life in such a simple way.
It reminded me that sometimes this is our purpose.
Not some grand and amazing thing, but something as simple as sharing a meal.
Sometimes we get so wrapped up in trying to do big things that we forget the little ripples of change we make just by smiling or sharing a kind word.
Sometimes we’re in such a rush to get to our imaginary finish line that we forget to slow down and smell the flowers along the way.
So, if today you’ve been looking for your purpose or questioning where to go next in life, may this be your reminder to do something small.
To stop looking for the grand gestures and just enjoy the journey.
My dad probably never imagined that a simple plate of food would become a story someone would tell his daughter years later. But that’s the thing about kindness. We don’t always know how far it reaches.
My dad made a difference with a plate of food. Maybe I can make one with my words.
And maybe that’s enough.
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