Finding and Following Your Purpose

TWO BOOKS SIT ON MY BOOKSHELF: One is titled Living Without a Goal. The other champions living with a goal. Both books have meaning in my life. Obsessing over goals often messes up relationships and means not smelling the roses or not being open to new experiences (unless that is your goal). But living without a goal—following the butterflies of our muses from flower to flower—also messes up relationships and leaves us going nowhere to look back from. So setting goals makes life a bit more balanced and mindful. More meaningful.

I also think it helps to look at a goal not just as a point on the horizon, but as the setting of a captain’s wheel that moves a rudder and leaves a wake. Setting goals can allow us to be more present to the moment by adding context. When we set a goal, we put ourselves on the horizon calling back. Over time and goals and horizons, what we find is our calling.

I’m contemplating goals because I just turned 70. I have had a magnificent 70 years. I am happy. Each day I feel butterflies in my stomach—my gut telling me to remain aware or to be on my best game. A few days ago, I talked about that feeling with a professional animal tracker who has spent 40 years tracking everything from poachers to rhinos. He calls my butterflies “above-the-eyes awareness.” As a tracker, he said, “You always have to be very aware and present. You must find the lion safely.” He said this casually, but his piercing eyes made sure I understood: His work is dangerous, and he teaches his craft to students who work in game parks, whose clients’ lives depend on their trackers’ skills. “Poachers shoot back,” he said. “Lions see us as part of the food chain.” He shrugged as he added, “You can’t be distracted and do what we do.”

“Obsessing over goals often messes up relationships and means not smelling the roses or not being open to new experiences.”

Whatever we call it, this feeling the tracker and I talked about is not uncomfortable. For me, it’s like a tickle, and a sense of empathy on steroids that can be very useful in my family life and business meetings, seminars, and talks. The sensitivity sometimes messes with me when I’m in a room full of anger, tension, or sadness. I feel the tickle and think, Why me? But I realize the tickle is the call of my goal. It’s me calling. For the tracker, it is a call to provide safety from a very real lion. For me, it is a call to find a solution, to serve, and to help in a difficult situation.

Answering the call is always a choice. I could say, “Why me?” and withdraw. But I grew up with four brothers, have lived in some very rough places, spent my life in the rough-and-tumble business world, and have set and reached a lot of goals. So when the butterflies tickle, I am prone to move toward my calling.

I also decided long ago, after interviewing Don Miguel Ruiz, not to take anything personally, including feeling singled out when I’m in a “Why me?” melancholic slump. I move forward toward my goal, telling myself—almost as a mantra—Missiondriven people don’t look at their lives as being about them. I am not very good at not taking things personally, so I say this mantra often. Being present to the moment—and having created lots of context—part of my answer to “Why me?” comes from an awareness that one of my goals is always to remember that it’s not about me. That me on the horizon has become my higher calling.

I choose happiness, and that leads to my current overriding goal: to be a great father and loving husband. I have also learned one thing certain about love: It is not about stuff. It is about time spent in a relationship.

This morning, while playing Ping-Pong, my 11-year-old son Michael wondered how long I would live. This was after a day of having my blood tested to make sure my non-Hodgkins lymphoma is not back, getting new glasses, and having my hearing checked. In other words, the question of how long I would be with my son came after being repeatedly reminded that it wouldn’t be forever. He was pleased when I told him that my goal is to live to see his kids graduate—in 37 years.

My goal is to be present in the fabric of his life. More generally, I want to be with the person in front of me, be sensitive, be love—even if that’s “just” playing Ping-Pong. Having worked toward so many goals, I’ve learned that my actions have consequences—and what matters most is often the “small” stuff.

I have set a goal of living a long time not because I am afraid of death, but because I like living. I am curious about what is next. And because I have lost a lot of friends to death, I do not wish to have others sad because my presence is not felt. Setting such a goal is the easy part. Staying motivated to make the choices is not.

Contemplating another test for lymphoma, I could nap, drink wine, or lie on the beach. But I’ve always got my higher self calling from the horizon. I do not drink, smoke, or use CBD. I eat a healthy, plant-based vegetarian diet; exercise; maintain healthy relationships; get enough sleep; and choose gratitude, optimism, and happiness. I also keep busy. This year, I’ll finish writing three books, revise seven of my 12 children’s books, join another public corporate board as an audit chair, and have 2,000 students from four countries and 10 universities participate in the Teaching with Love seminars I facilitate. All of these actions, these choices, make me happy and correlate with longevity. My goals are what call me to life.

I would love to hear your ‘Finding and Following Your Purpose’ comments. Contact me here.

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