People with a robust sense of purpose (who are most likely to experience the health and well-being dividends described here) (1) know what makes them tick; (2) can articulate what they are trying to do with their wild and precious lives; and (3) intentionally and regularly make choices to live in alignment with their broader aspirations. That’s it. And that’s plenty. 

The good news is that writing down realistic goals related to things we really care about can help us move closer to our aspirations. Goals that are the outcome of thoughtful reflection regarding who I am, where I aim to go, and what I can let go of help me feel regrounded and refocused, especially at the beginning of a new year, week, or even beautiful new day.

Re-establishing a sense of authentic purpose (or as one of our research participants put it, “refinding my mojo”) can take a while, especially after life transitions that mess with our identity and most valued roles. Reconnecting with our current values, strengths, and sources of personal meaning (e.g., inner Compass and foundation of purposeful living) takes time and energy, which can be hard to muster when one feels stalled. Feeling stalled, by the way, is not exclusive to people on the heels of big life changes. Some days I wake up feeling that way, despite my commitment to living on purpose. Could be the weight of the world gets me; worries about those I love; or my monkey mind is on full tilt – whatever. The doldrums hit and I hardly feel purposey.  What might we do until we get our mojo back?

Earlier this summer, Jim and I enjoyed a community band concert at a park in Door County, WI. Approximately 70 members of the Waunakee Community band performed. From my vantage point on the hill, the band appeared to be composed of mostly older folks wearing their purple polo shirts and khakis.  There were about 35 of us in the audience, at least half of whom seemed to be family/friends who had traveled a couple of hours with their band members.

We really enjoyed the music on a wonderful summer day but I had to ask myself: Why do these band members bother? I mean, they have to practice and then drive some distance to perform to, frankly, hardly anyone.  In the end, I figure that they go to the effort because they love making music together and are motivated by the prospect of blessing someone doing what they love. Whether it’s one person or 30 or 100.

One Small Step Can Change Your LIfe: The Kaizen Way

One of my strengths is my tilt towards self-reflection and using those reflections to guide my life choices - and I have the journals to prove it! However, given that our greatest strengths can also be our greatest weaknesses, I often run the risk of over-thinking things. (People who know me well are now rolling their eyes a wee bit.) It strikes me that living with purpose is about knowing where we want to go and who we want to be and then intentionally taking steps towards that goal – that is, both reflecting and acting. If this enterprise is all about the doing, we risk scrambling up a ladder that is leaning against the wrong wall. But if it’s only about reflecting, we risk never moving at all.  

Earlier this summer, Jim and I enjoyed a community band concert at a park in Door County, WI. Approximately 70 members of the Waunakee Community band performed. From my vantage point on the hill, the band appeared to be composed of mostly older folks wearing their purple polo shirts and khakis.  There were about 35 of us in the audience, at least half of whom seemed to be family/friends who had traveled a couple of hours with their band members.

We really enjoyed the music on a wonderful summer day but I had to ask myself: Why do these band members bother? I mean, they have to practice and then drive some distance to perform to, frankly, hardly anyone.  In the end, I figure that they go to the effort because they love making music together and are motivated by the prospect of blessing someone doing what they love. Whether it’s one person or 30 or 100.

Over the past couple of months, I’ve been working on manuscripts to report findings from our most recent studies on purpose renewal for people who have experienced health transitions. We use the same standardized self-report instruments to measure before-after changes in purpose in life as are used in the scientific literature that evaluates the health and well-being benefits of living with purpose (see my new Research Brief). These data are extremely important but even more, I’m often moved by what participants tell us changes for them as the result of the purpose renewal process.

As I described in my Reflection last month, I (mostly) retired in June, something that feels both weird and delightful. With the change in my work status, some of my default life structure has shifted and with it, some of what drives my sense of purpose in life. I have the opportunity to recraft or refine what purpose looks like in this chapter of my life, which will take some degree of intention and effort. Beyond the very real satisfaction that I derive from believing that my life direction matters in some way, it’s worthwhile to revisit why this investment is worth it.

Ikigai – The Japanese Secret to a Long and Happy Life by Hector Garcia and Francesc Miralles. Penguin Books, New York (2016).

Awakening Your Ikigai: How the Japanese Wake up to Joy and Purpose Every Day by Ken Mogi. The Experiment LLC, New York (2017).

Earlier this month, I officially changed my work status from benefit-eligible part-time to casual. I watched my boss check new boxes on my HR record, including one that said “0 hours scheduled.” While I truly welcome this transition, I do not yet embrace the term “retired” as representing my status in life or my aspirations for this next chapter.

I recently discovered Sonja Lyubomirsky and colleagues’ (2005) model that proposes an “architecture of sustainable change” in our happiness. They suggest that an individual’s happiness is informed by three factors: our individual biologically-based happiness set-point; our current life circumstances (where we live, demographic factors, life status factors); and our intentional activities. They recommend that while we can’t do a whole lot to budge our hard-wired set-point and may not be able to change many of our circumstances, we can improve our chronic happiness (i.e., subjective well-being) via shifts in our intentional activities. They emphasize the importance of choosing activities that fit for us – align with our core values, signature strengths, personal resources etc. For anyone who has taken the Compass Course, does this sound familiar?

When you think of person who lives with a robust sense of purpose, who comes to mind? It’s tempting to assume that only fancy people with important jobs like Oprah, Dr. Fauci, or Michelle Obama (ok – you think of yours) are equipped or responsible to conduct purpose-directed lives, but of course, that’s not true.

Let me just say it: If we want a more robust sense of purpose, we probably need to shift something in our status quo. More than likely, this means doing something different and new, which, if you’re like me, is scary. Or terrifying (depending).

Most adults (myself included) do not regularly engage in levels of physical activity recommended by Office of Disease Prevention and Health Promotion (U.S. Department of Health and Human Services); that is at least 2.5 – 5 hours per week of moderate intensity activity. https://health.gov/sites/default/files/2019-10/PAG_ExecutiveSummary.pdf

Researchers want to identify factors, such as purpose in life, that might propel greater levels of physical activity.

Gratitude and Purpose in Life

When our purpose pursuits go sideways: Gratitude as gateway to purpose

At some point, most of us will encounter circumstances that shatter life-as-usual and force us to appreciate the fragile and temporal nature of our lives. These experiences, often related to health, functioning, or relationships, can jolt us out of a mindless focus on petty distractions and catalyze a desire for authentic authorship and purpose in our lives and an appreciation for the poignancy of life itself (Yalom, 1980). This can be one of the small upsides of suffering but these potential dividends don’t come fast or easily, if at all.

In her guide to cultivating one’s inner monk and artist, Christine Valters Paintner observes the seasonality of our days, weeks, and/or years and suggests that predictable patterns influence the ebb and flow of our creative life. She posits that dried up periods of fallow, flatness, and dysfocus align with the “work” of Winter. That is, instead of representing our failure and unpardonable sloth, our Winter work is to rest, repair, and prepare for the germination of Spring that is silently underway.