I DON'T THINK YOU SHOULD ATTACH YOURSELF TO YOUR PURPOSE EITHER.
I came across a post recently that said:
Don't attach yourself to a person.
Don't attach yourself to a project.
Don't attach yourself to a company.
Don't attach yourself to an organisation.
Attach yourself to a goal.
A calling.
A mission.
A purpose.
At first, I agreed with it.
Then I thought about it more deeply.
And I realised there is something potentially dangerous hidden inside this advice.
Because what happens when the goal no longer matters?
What happens when the mission changes?
What happens when the purpose you were absolutely certain about at 30 no longer fits the person you have become at 50?
We talk constantly about finding our purpose.
Perhaps we should talk more about not becoming imprisoned by it.
I've met people who have built their entire identity around a career.
"I'm a CEO."
"I'm a doctor."
"I'm an entrepreneur."
"I'm a coach."
"I'm a writer."
Then something changes.
The company disappears.
The business fails.
They retire.
Their health changes.
The children leave home.
The relationship ends.
And suddenly the question isn't:
"What do I do next?"
It is:
"Who am I now?"
That's a much deeper question.
And I think this is where many conversations about purpose get it wrong.
A company is not you.
A job is not you.
A relationship is not you.
But neither is your mission.
Your purpose is an expression of who you are at a particular stage of your life.
It isn't necessarily the permanent definition of you.
Because human beings are supposed to evolve.
The person you were ten years ago had different experiences, different beliefs, different fears and perhaps completely different ambitions.
Why should that person's definition of purpose dictate the rest of your life?
This is why I have become increasingly interested in something deeper than purpose.
Identity.
More specifically, what I think of as our inner architecture.
The beliefs, values, assumptions, experiences and internal narratives from which we construct our lives.
Because the outer structures of life are temporary.
Companies restructure.
Careers end.
Relationships change.
Businesses fail.
Success comes and goes.
Even our ambitions evolve.
If our identity is built entirely around those external structures, their disappearance can feel like the disappearance of ourselves.
But there is another danger.
We can become so attached to the person we believe we are supposed to become that we stop noticing who we are actually becoming.
That is why self-mastery isn't simply about pursuing a goal relentlessly.
Sometimes it means having the courage to pursue it.
Sometimes it means having the courage to change it.
And occasionally it means having the courage to walk away from something you once believed was your life's purpose.
There is an enormous difference between giving up because something became difficult and letting go because you have genuinely outgrown it.
Wisdom is learning to recognise the difference.
So perhaps the advice shouldn't be:
"Attach yourself to your purpose."
Perhaps it should be:
Know yourself deeply enough that your purpose can evolve without you losing yourself.
Your company can change.
Your career can change.
Your relationships can change.
Your goals can change.
Your mission can change.
Your definition of success can change.
And you can change.
The strongest identity isn't the one that never changes.
It is the one strong enough to evolve.
So here's a question worth sitting with:
If everything you currently use to describe yourself disappeared tomorrow, your title, your business, your achievements, your status and even the goal you're pursuing, who would be left?
That answer may tell you more about yourself than your CV ever could.
I came across a post recently that said:
Don't attach yourself to a person.
Don't attach yourself to a project.
Don't attach yourself to a company.
Don't attach yourself to an organisation.
Attach yourself to a goal.
A calling.
A mission.
A purpose.
At first, I agreed with it.
Then I thought about it more deeply.
And I realised there is something potentially dangerous hidden inside this advice.
Because what happens when the goal no longer matters?
What happens when the mission changes?
What happens when the purpose you were absolutely certain about at 30 no longer fits the person you have become at 50?
We talk constantly about finding our purpose.
Perhaps we should talk more about not becoming imprisoned by it.
I've met people who have built their entire identity around a career.
"I'm a CEO."
"I'm a doctor."
"I'm an entrepreneur."
"I'm a coach."
"I'm a writer."
Then something changes.
The company disappears.
The business fails.
They retire.
Their health changes.
The children leave home.
The relationship ends.
And suddenly the question isn't:
"What do I do next?"
It is:
"Who am I now?"
That's a much deeper question.
And I think this is where many conversations about purpose get it wrong.
A company is not you.
A job is not you.
A relationship is not you.
But neither is your mission.
Your purpose is an expression of who you are at a particular stage of your life.
It isn't necessarily the permanent definition of you.
Because human beings are supposed to evolve.
The person you were ten years ago had different experiences, different beliefs, different fears and perhaps completely different ambitions.
Why should that person's definition of purpose dictate the rest of your life?
This is why I have become increasingly interested in something deeper than purpose.
Identity.
More specifically, what I think of as our inner architecture.
The beliefs, values, assumptions, experiences and internal narratives from which we construct our lives.
Because the outer structures of life are temporary.
Companies restructure.
Careers end.
Relationships change.
Businesses fail.
Success comes and goes.
Even our ambitions evolve.
If our identity is built entirely around those external structures, their disappearance can feel like the disappearance of ourselves.
But there is another danger.
We can become so attached to the person we believe we are supposed to become that we stop noticing who we are actually becoming.
That is why self-mastery isn't simply about pursuing a goal relentlessly.
Sometimes it means having the courage to pursue it.
Sometimes it means having the courage to change it.
And occasionally it means having the courage to walk away from something you once believed was your life's purpose.
There is an enormous difference between giving up because something became difficult and letting go because you have genuinely outgrown it.
Wisdom is learning to recognise the difference.
So perhaps the advice shouldn't be:
"Attach yourself to your purpose."
Perhaps it should be:
Know yourself deeply enough that your purpose can evolve without you losing yourself.
Your company can change.
Your career can change.
Your relationships can change.
Your goals can change.
Your mission can change.
Your definition of success can change.
And you can change.
The strongest identity isn't the one that never changes.
It is the one strong enough to evolve.
So here's a question worth sitting with:
If everything you currently use to describe yourself disappeared tomorrow, your title, your business, your achievements, your status and even the goal you're pursuing, who would be left?
That answer may tell you more about yourself than your CV ever could.