The Oppressive Search for Purpose
It’s time to call it quits on this quest.
As I’ve grown older, the search for purpose has become increasingly oppressive. So, I am officially suspending it, not because I don’t want to live a meaningful life, but because it’s time to redefine it.
One hang-up I have is that framed as a “search,” purpose seems hidden or mysterious, a challenge to discover, like something revealed only after an epic quest that requires battling demons and slaying the dragon. And, the singular word “purpose” implies we are limited to one offering — there is pressure to land on something appropriately worthy and grand.
We perpetuate this stress, which is reflected in my Millennial nieces and nephews who fret about making the “right” career choice for fear they’ll be locked in it forever. And I understand their concern — I’m proud of my work, but having made the commitment to enter medicine in 1990 when I was only 20, I’ve frequently questioned if this is all I am really meant to do. It’s possible I’m just jaded. Since college, I’ve been inspired by Joseph Campbell’s charge to “follow your bliss,” but I often feel like a failure, because I have yet to identify a sole endeavor that keeps me engaged.
Fingerprints as Purpose
Recently, it has been helpful to substitute fingerprints in place of purpose. Rather than something elusive and exceptional to seek outside ourselves, we are born with our fingerprints. Wired into our DNA and shaped by our developmental environment, fingerprints are different for each individual, even genetically identical twins. Specific enough to unlock an iPad or convict us of a crime, our fingerprints may change subtly over time, but they retain distinguishable features that are uniquely our own.
In contrast to purpose-driven pursuits, we’re not competitive about our fingerprints — we don’t compare them to others and lament that ours are inferior with fewer likes on TikTok or followers on Twitter. And we’re not judgmental or obsessive about their impact — we don’t wish them to be smarter or more appealing or worry about whether they are adequately effecting change and making a difference.
With fingerprints as a purpose, we don’t require that they pay the bills. My partner earns a living implementing software while leaving a legacy of hand-sewn quilts and home-cooked meals. A friend’s job title is Physician Assistant, but her real goal is to make people laugh, and she still considers it successful when she garners only a smile from those who are particularly resistant. A friend of a friend is known for tucking tiny ninjas in unexpected places — brightening people’s day when they stumble upon these small symbols of power.
We hardly notice our fingerprints, and yet, we can’t help but leave them everywhere, whether literally, on the items we create or the people we touch, or figuratively, through words and actions and intentions, even ones that resonate at a distance.
I applaud and admire¹ those who live with laser-focused purpose, but it is much less daunting for me to believe I am making my mark with the random and lovely patterns of arches, loops, and whorls that I’ve carried with me all along, embedded in my hands.
¹ and envy
