Tired of Searching for Purpose? Maybe You’re Asking the Wrong Question
For years, I thought a lack of purpose was holding me back. But what if it was never about purpose at all? What if the real issue was focus? This shift in thinking changed everything.
The Inner Struggle: Purpose vs. Focus
For the longest time, I told myself I lacked purpose. That was my excuse. My safety net. Whenever I felt stuck, uninspired, or restless, I blamed it on not knowing my why.
If only I had a purpose, I thought, everything would fall into place. I’d wake up energized, driven, unstoppable. I wouldn’t waste time second-guessing or bouncing between interests. The people who knew their purpose—those who had a clear mission in life—seemed to move through the world with certainty, while I was still wandering, trying to figure it all out.
But then, a thought hit me. What if purpose wasn’t my problem at all?
What if I was perfectly capable of committing, of immersing myself, of going all in—but I simply kept moving the goalpost? What if the issue wasn’t a lack of purpose but a lack of focus?
At first, that idea was unsettling. It meant I couldn’t just sit around waiting for a grand revelation. It meant that my struggle wasn’t about not knowing what to do—it was about not sticking with something long enough to see it through. That’s a hard truth to swallow.
But was it really true? Or was something else at play?
That’s when I started questioning everything I had believed about purpose and focus—and how they were shaping my life.
Are Purpose and Focus the Same? Or Are We Misinterpreting Them?
For years, I used purpose and focus interchangeably, assuming they were two sides of the same coin. If I found my purpose, I’d automatically have the focus to pursue it. If I had enough focus, my purpose would reveal itself. Simple, right?
But the more I thought about it, the more I realized how different they really are.
Purpose is about meaning. Focus is about attention.
Purpose is the why—the reason behind what we do. It’s the bigger picture, the force that pulls us forward.
Focus is the how—the ability to direct our energy toward something with intensity and commitment.
One is about direction, the other is about execution. And here’s the kicker: You can have one without the other.
Think about it. There are plenty of people who have a deep sense of purpose but struggle to focus on anything long enough to make real progress. They get lost in distractions, pulled in a hundred different directions.
Then there are those who have laser-sharp focus but no real purpose behind it. They get things done, sure, but their work feels empty—like they’re moving forward without knowing where they’re going.
So, if I wasn’t making progress, what was truly holding me back? Was I chasing the wrong purpose, or was I failing to commit to any one thing long enough to see results?
And then another, even scarier question hit me: What if I wasn’t actually lacking purpose or focus? What if I was just afraid of choosing wrong?
My Struggle with Purpose: A Constant Search Without a Destination
I’ve always envied people who seem to have a clear purpose—the ones who say, "I knew I wanted to be a doctor since I was five," or "I was born to do this." That kind of certainty always felt foreign to me.
If you asked me what my purpose was, I wouldn’t have an answer. Not because I wasn’t trying to find one—I was always searching. But every time I thought I had it, it slipped away.
One month, I’d be convinced my purpose was writing. I’d dive in headfirst, spend hours reading, learning, practicing. But then the excitement would wear off, and doubt would creep in. Is this really it? Am I actually meant to do this? The passion that once felt so strong would fade, and soon enough, I’d find myself searching again.
This cycle repeated itself more times than I can count. Each time, I hoped the next thing would be the thing that finally stuck. That this time, I’d find something that felt permanent. But no matter what I pursued, I kept ending up in the same place: uncertain, restless, and feeling like I was back at square one.
At one point, I even convinced myself that purpose should find me, not the other way around. That one day, I’d have an epiphany, and everything would just click into place.
But that never happened.
Instead, I kept moving from one thing to the next, hoping for clarity but only feeling more exhausted. And with every failed attempt, I started to wonder—was I actually struggling with purpose? Or was something else at play?
The Role of Focus: Did I Lack Purpose, or Was I Just Distracted?
For the longest time, I believed my problem was not knowing what I was meant to do. But the more I reflected, the more I realized something unsettling: I had never really struggled with focus.
When I found something interesting, I could spend hours—days—completely absorbed in it. I read obsessively, took deep dives into learning, practiced with intensity. I had no trouble dedicating myself fully to something. That wasn’t the issue.
The problem was that after a few months, I would start questioning whether I was focused on the right thing. The initial passion would fade, and I’d begin to second-guess myself. Was this really my purpose? Or was I just wasting time again?
I didn’t lack focus—I lacked certainty.
And yet, whenever I switched gears, people around me—elders, parents, teachers—would shake their heads. “You have no focus,” they’d say. “You need to stick to one thing.” But that wasn’t true. I could stick to something—I just didn’t know if it was worth sticking to.
Looking back, I wonder: Was I misdiagnosed? Did everyone mistake my uncertainty about purpose for a lack of focus?
Because the truth is, I was focused. I worked hard. I put in the time. The problem was that no matter how much focus I applied, I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe—just maybe—I was climbing the wrong ladder. And that made it impossible to commit for the long haul.
The Exhaustion of Trial and Error: When Searching for Purpose Becomes Draining
At first, experimenting felt exciting. Every new interest, every new pursuit carried the promise of this might be it. The thrill of learning something fresh, immersing myself in it, and envisioning a future built around it was intoxicating.
But after a while, the cycle became exhausting.
Try. Invest time. Lose interest. Doubt. Move on. Repeat.
Each time I abandoned something I once thought could be the thing, I felt like I had wasted months—sometimes years—chasing the wrong path. And with each new start, the weight of past failures made it harder to fully commit. The mental fatigue of starting over again and again chipped away at my ability to focus with the same intensity.
I kept asking myself:
What if all those hours were for nothing?
What if I never find the right path?
What if, years from now, I’m still searching?
The worst part? I started losing faith in my own instincts. How could I trust myself to pick the right thing when I had been wrong so many times before?
It wasn’t just about purpose anymore. It was about fear.
The fear of committing to something, only to realize—again—that it wasn’t right. The fear of wasting even more time. The fear of never feeling certain.
And that fear? It was paralyzing.
It made it harder to give new things the same level of focus and energy I once had. I started second-guessing everything before I even started. The search for purpose was no longer inspiring—it was draining.
And the more exhausted I became, the more I started to wonder: What if I’ve been going about this the wrong way all along?
Purpose vs. Focus: Which One Truly Holds Us Back?
For so long, I told myself that if I just found my purpose, everything would fall into place. But looking back, I see the problem differently.
Let’s break it down:
If I had the perfect purpose but no focus, would I succeed? Probably not. A clear purpose means nothing if I can’t sit down, do the work, and stay consistent through the difficult, boring, and uncertain moments.
If I had intense focus but no clear purpose, would I succeed? Maybe. A strong work ethic and deep commitment could take me far—even without a grand sense of meaning. Many people build fulfilling lives just by getting really good at something, even if it wasn’t their first “passion.”
The real issue? Purpose and focus are intertwined.
Without purpose, focus feels directionless—like running on a treadmill but going nowhere.
Without focus, purpose feels unattainable—like a dream that always stays just out of reach.
But here’s where things got tricky for me: the search for purpose drained my focus. The endless trial and error, the second-guessing, the constant shifting from one thing to another—it all made it harder and harder to give anything my full attention.
At some point, I wasn’t just struggling with finding purpose—I was struggling to even care enough to try.
And that’s when I realized:
Maybe I had been waiting for the wrong thing.
Maybe purpose wasn’t something I had to find first in order to focus.
Maybe—just maybe—purpose was something I had to create through focus.
That shift in thinking changed everything.
The Role of Time: Is Purpose Linked to Age?
One of the biggest lies we’re told is that we’re supposed to find our purpose early in life—that if we don’t figure it out by our twenties or thirties, we’ve somehow failed.
But is that actually true?
When I started questioning this idea, I looked around and noticed something:
Some people find their purpose early and stick with it for life.
Some people find it later—sometimes much later—after decades of exploration.
Some people never have just one purpose; they redefine it multiple times throughout their lives.
History is full of examples:
Julia Child worked in advertising and secret intelligence before discovering cooking in her late 30s.
Vera Wang was a figure skater and journalist before becoming a designer at 40.
Colonel Sanders didn’t start KFC until he was in his 60s.
So why do we act like purpose has an expiration date?
And if purpose can evolve, doesn’t that mean focus matters more than age?
Because here’s the real question:
Can I still focus at any age and define my purpose?
Does purpose come from what we do, or from who we are?
Is it something we’re born with, something we develop, or something that just happens?
These questions matter, because they change how we approach our journey.
If purpose isn’t something that’s set in stone, then maybe I don’t have to panic about finding the “right” one.
And if I can still focus—at any age—then maybe the real question isn’t when I find my purpose.
Maybe the real question is how I choose to build it.
Breaking Free: Redefining Purpose and Rebuilding Focus
At some point, I had to ask myself: What if I stopped searching for purpose like it was some hidden treasure and started focusing on what’s in front of me?
Because let’s be honest—waiting for purpose to magically reveal itself wasn’t working. And jumping from one thing to another, hoping for certainty, was only making me more exhausted.
So instead of chasing an epiphany, I started testing a different approach:
Accepting that purpose evolves
Maybe purpose isn’t a single, lifelong commitment.
Maybe it’s something that shifts and grows as we do.
And maybe that’s okay.
Finding meaning in the present, not in a distant “aha” moment
Instead of obsessing over whether something was the purpose, I started asking: Does this interest me right now? Is it worth learning? Is it worth giving my focus?
Purpose, I realized, isn’t found—it’s built through action.
Committing to small, focused steps
Instead of waiting for clarity, I committed to doing something well for a set period.
No immediate expectations, no pressure to make it my life’s work—just focus.
Letting go of the fear of “wasted time”
Everything I’ve tried—the skills, the experiences, even the so-called “failures”—has added something to who I am.
No experiment is wasted if I learn something from it.
Once I shifted my mindset from finding purpose to building it, things changed.
I stopped overthinking so much. I stopped waiting for the “right” thing to appear. And more importantly, I started focusing again—not because I had perfect clarity, but because I realized clarity comes from focus, not before it.
And that was the biggest breakthrough of all.
A New Perspective: Purpose Isn’t Found—It’s Created
For years, I thought purpose was something out there, waiting for me to discover it—some hidden truth I had to uncover before I could finally move forward. But the more I searched, the more lost I felt.
Now, I see things differently.
Purpose isn’t something we find. It’s something we create.
It’s not some grand revelation that arrives one day, fully formed. It’s built through action, focus, and commitment—even when we’re unsure. Even when we doubt. Even when we don’t have all the answers.
If you’ve been struggling with the same questions—if you feel stuck between finding purpose and regaining focus—consider this:
Stop waiting for clarity before taking action. Clarity comes from doing, not thinking.
Let go of the idea that you need to find “the one thing.” Purpose can evolve, shift, and expand over time.
Give your full focus to what’s in front of you right now. Not because it has to be the thing, but because doing things well, with intention, is what leads to meaning.
And most importantly, trust that wherever you are now is not the end of your story.
You are not behind. You are not lost. You are becoming.
So instead of asking, “What is my purpose?”, ask yourself:
"How can I bring purpose into what I’m doing today?"
Because that’s where real momentum begins.