What is My Life Purpose? (It may be simpler than you think)

Katie Simons, PharmD, BCPS, CCHT

(Originally published in Brainz Magazine)

At some point, almost everyone asks the same existential question. This question might come on a Sunday afternoon as the weekend is ending and the ordinary rhythm of the week is about to begin again. It might show up after a promotion that was supposed to feel more meaningful than it actually does. It might surface in the middle of a Wednesday that looks and feels the same as yesterday and last Wednesday. What am I actually doing with my life? Beneath that question is another one that feels harder to answer: What is my purpose?

For many people, this question carries pressure. It suggests there is something to be discovered—a role or calling that will finally make everything meaningful. When a sense of meaning is lacking, it is easy to assume something has gone wrong. Maybe I have not figured it out yet. Maybe I am behind. Maybe I am missing something.

This anxiety has become a shared experience in modern life. It arises when we feel stuck in a misaligned career, when our achievements fail to bring satisfaction, or when we feel disengaged despite constant activity. At its core, this isn’t just restlessness or discontent. It’s a common human search for meaning that many of us encounter.

We often interpret this feeling as a lack of purpose. But what if the issue is not that you have not found your purpose? What if the issue is the way you have been taught to think about purpose in the first place?

The Tension Between Meaning and Meaninglessness

To understand this, it helps to look at two philosophical perspectives that have influenced how we think about meaning: nihilism and existentialism. Both nihilism and existentialism suggest that life has no inherent meaning. From the nihilist perspective, nothing we do ultimately matters. This realization can feel heavy or even discouraging. If nothing has meaning, then what is the point of trying at all? 

Existentialism starts with the same understanding and arrives somewhere very different. Instead of seeing the lack of inherent meaning in life as a problem, it sees it as the very condition that makes a meaningful life possible. If meaning is not given, it can be created. If there is no predetermined script, then the question of how to live becomes open. In this sense, the absence of inherent purpose is not a flaw in the system. It is the space that allows for freedom and authenticity.

And yet, this freedom can feel surprisingly uncomfortable. Our minds tend to look for structure. We want to know what to do and to feel certain that we are on the right path. When such a structure is not clearly provided, it is easy to default to searching for it. So we begin to look for purpose as if it exists independently of us and will bring us a sense of meaning in life. Something that can be located, defined, and secured. And this is where things start to become confusing.

How Language Forms our Perception of Purpose and Self

Notice the way we talk about purpose and self. We say we want to find purpose, have lost our sense of self, or are trying to become a better version of ourselves. All of this language assumes that self is an object, and purpose is something we can possess. We conceptualize both self and purpose as objects waiting to be discovered and claimed.

Interestingly, this way of thinking is molded by the structure of the language we use every day. In English, we organize experience around nouns, with nouns taking up about 60% of our language. We treat identity as something we have and define the self as something we create. When we speak this way, we subtly shape how we relate to ourselves and the world around us, turning processes into things.

There are other ways of structuring reality through language. In many Indigenous languages, the emphasis lies far more on verbs and relational descriptions than on fixed nouns. Rather than naming things as static objects, these languages often describe what something is doing, how it is moving, or how it is relating to everything around it. A river is not a noun, but is "rivering" as a body of water that can do nothing but flow. Lighting does not strike, it simply “lightings,” since this snap of electricity that breaks through a storm can do nothing other than exactly that. Even what we might call a person is understood as a living expression in relationship with land, community, and time.

When you try to express this idea in a noun-heavy language, you notice the irony. This difficulty makes it clear how deeply language forms our perception of reality. When you structure language with verbs, you naturally start seeing the world differently. Nature doesn't appear as separate or made of isolated objects; it becomes a continuous process of interactions. The boundary between self and environment grows less rigid because you understand everything through relationship and movement, not separation and reductionism.

What if self is not a noun, but you are actually a verb? When identity is a verb, something that is lived and expressed, the purpose of life is innate in the description of self. If reality itself is dynamic and relational, then purpose would not exist as a static answer waiting to be found. It would emerge through participation, through how one moves within the web of relationships that make up life. The purpose of life is being you. 

Purpose as Participation

How many times have you heard someone say this about the purpose of life? “The purpose of life is just to be yourself.” Seems like a trite response to an enormous, existential search for the meaning of life. Possibly, but just because it's simple does not make it easy. If self is something you are doing, then purpose is not something you locate. It is something you enact. Purpose transitions from a destination to the pattern of how you engage with your life as it is happening. 

This might sound abstract at first, but it becomes very practical when you bring it into everyday life. Most people assume that living with purpose requires a dramatic change that brings a new depth to life: leaving a job, starting a business, moving somewhere new, having children, reinventing their entire life. While those changes can feel meaningful temporarily, they are not what create purpose on their own.

Purpose is not dependent on your job title or your external circumstances. It shows up in how you do what you are already doing. It shows up in how you speak to people, how you handle responsibility, how you respond when something does not go as planned, and the choices you make when no one is watching. 

It is present in the small, repeated actions that shape the direction of your life over time. This is where many people overlook it. They are waiting for a clear sign, a moment of certainty, a feeling that tells them they have found their purpose. But purpose does not usually announce itself that way. It reveals itself through participation.

Values as Direction

If purpose is something you enact, the next question becomes how you orient yourself within that process. This is where values come in. Values are often treated as abstract ideas, things we say matter to us but do not always translate into daily action. In reality, values are directional. They influence how you make decisions, shape what you prioritize, and determine what you are willing to move toward or away from. For example, if you value honesty, that will show up in how you communicate, even when it is uncomfortable. If you value growth, that will influence how you respond to challenge. If you value connection, that will affect how you show up in your relationships.

Values are not something you list once and forget. They are something you live. When your behavior consistently reflects what you value, your life begins to feel more coherent. Not because everything is easy or perfectly aligned, but because there is a sense of internal consistency. You are moving in a direction that feels true to you. That is what gives life a sense of meaning, the presence of alignment.

Passion as Energy in Motion

Alongside values, another element often gets misunderstood. Passion. We are frequently told to follow our passion, as if it is a fixed interest we need to identify before we can move forward. This can create another form of pressure. What if I do not know what I am passionate about? What if nothing feels strong enough to build a life around? Quick onset of analysis paralysis. 

Instead of thinking of passion as something you either have or do not have, view it as energy in motion. Notice what naturally draws your attention, what sparks your curiosity, and what you engage with even when no external reward exists. You develop passion through engagement. As you participate more in something, you deepen your experience of it. As it deepens, it becomes more meaningful. This shows how purpose emerges through action rather than waiting to be discovered.

Making Life Purpose Real in Everyday Life

At this point, it is important to bring all of this back to the reality most of us are living in. The main argument holds: purpose is something realized through intention and action within your actual circumstances. Most of us have responsibilities, jobs, families, and financial obligations. The idea of purpose can start to feel disconnected from that reality when we think of it as something that requires a dramatic shift. But living with purpose does not require you to step outside of your life. It asks you to become more intentional within it.

You can express purpose in a job that is not your ultimate passion by how you approach your work, how you interact with others, and how you choose to grow within that environment. You can express purpose in your relationships by how present you are, how you communicate, and how you show care. You can express purpose in your personal time by what you choose to engage with, create, or explore. None of this requires a complete reinvention. It requires attention, self-awareness, participation, and a willingness to take responsibility for how you are living, even when the circumstances are not perfect.

The Freedom and Responsibility of Creating Meaning

When you stop looking for purpose as something to find, and begin to experience it as something you are actively creating, something else becomes clear. There is no single right way to live. There is no universal blueprint that will tell you exactly what to do. For some people, this realization feels unsettling because it removes the idea of a guaranteed path. But it also removes the idea that you are doing it wrong simply because you have not found the one perfect answer.

Existentialists refer to this process as forging authenticity. If meaning is not assigned, then it is constructed through the way you live. Every choice you make is an expression of your own authenticity. Not in theory, but in action. What matters is defined by what you consistently choose to engage with. Are your choices aligned with your values and passions or someone else's? Are you exercising freedom by choosing how you show up? Over time, those choices form a pattern. That pattern becomes your life, and that life carries the meaning you have given it through how you have lived.

A Different Question to Ask

If you take this perspective seriously, the question begins to change. Instead of asking what is my purpose, you might begin to ask something else. What am I choosing to participate in? What do my current choices say I value? Where am I showing up fully, and where am I holding back? What am I passionate about? What kind of life am I actively creating through the way I am living today?

These questions are less comfortable because they bring the focus back to you, not as someone seeking an answer, but as someone who is already shaping their life through what they do. And yet, they are also more empowering because they do not require you to wait for certainty before you begin. They invite you to start where you are, right now.

Purpose is not something you find. It is something you do. It is present in the way you live, not hidden somewhere outside of you. It does not arrive all at once. It builds through continuous participation in what matters to you. And it is not reserved for a select few who have everything figured out. It is available to anyone willing to pay attention to how they are living and take responsibility for the direction of their life.

So perhaps the question is no longer whether you have found your purpose. Perhaps the question is simpler. Are you living in a way that reflects what matters to you? Because if you are, even imperfectly, then purpose is not something missing from your life. It is already unfolding through it.