Purpose Has Become Overrated. But Having None Is Dangerous.
Why the opposite of hustle isn't always peace.
A couple of days ago I wrote about moonshots and not needing to have goals so big they terrify you (or make you feel like a failure).
So my eyes lit up when this note by The Old Grey Thinker popped up on my Substack feed:
It clearly struck a nerve as it’s had 1.4k likes and 140 comments, with people falling over themselves to agree.
And he’s right. Purpose has become another stick to beat ourselves with. Yet another thing to feel inadequate about.
We’ve taken what used to be a perfectly nice idea - that it’s good to have something you care about - and turned it into a moral obligation to have a ‘Grand Calling’, ideally one that’s also a personal brand and a six-figure side hustle.
No wonder people are exhausted. No wonder a note saying you’re allowed to just make tea lands like cool water.
But, there is another side to this argument, which I’ve seen first hand. And the life with no purpose whatsoever is not pretty.
My Mum was a proud, strong, stoic woman born in 1939. She wanted to be a singer and was offered a scholarship at the London School of Music, but her Mother forbade it and she started working at BOAC (now British Airways) in London.
Somewhere along the way, my sister & I came along and my Mum, being sharp as a tack with numbers, spent the bulk of her life as an unqualified accountant (namely a bookkeeper).
And she loved it, so much so she was still working well into her late 60s. She loved the company, loved the people, and loved the daily fact of having somewhere to be and something to do that she was good at.
Then my Dad got unwell, nothing dramatic at first, but he wanted her at home with him, so she gave up the job she loved to keep him company.
Gradually I watched the fire go out of her eyes. Their world slowly narrowed to medical appointments and daytime telly.
When Dad eventually passed in 2008, she rallied for a while. She went on a couple of cruises she didn’t much enjoy, had a few friends, sporadically attended a book club - until gradually, she didn’t.
She was never much of a joiner my Mum. She was a true introvert, and so when my sister and I urged her toward a little over-seventies exercise class, perhaps a dog for company, or some volunteering work - basically anything with a pulse and a reason attached, she’d maybe try it for a month and let it fall away. (Not the dog, that was always a hard no).
Then COVID came and sealed the deal. Years indoors. No groups, no friends dropping by, no walk to the post office, nothing to structure a day around or get up for.
Her legs atrophied (literally). And what I sadly saw, in the years before she died, was a bright, strong, capable woman slowly fade for want of a reason to be in the world.
So here’s where I part gentle company with the tea-and-gardens view.
The Old Grey Thinker uses the word Ikigai, which roughly translated means ‘a reason to get out of bed in the morning’.
It doesn’t have to be your grand destiny. Just the thing, however small, that makes getting up worth the effort.
And I’ve now seen, up close, what happens when that disappears completely. It’s not peaceful retirement to the garden. It’s a quiet, gradual, heartbreaking fade. And it happens faster than you’d ever believe to people who were, not long before, perfectly sharp and perfectly strong.
So no, you don’t need a calling. You don’t need to be on fire. You don’t need a moonshot or a personal brand or a passion you can put on a mug.
But I do think you do need a reason to feel alive in this world.
And I think we forget, in our very reasonable backlash against hustle culture, that the opposite of relentless striving isn’t always blissful pottering. Sometimes the opposite of striving is simply stopping. And stopping, for a human being, can be surprisingly dangerous.
Right now I’m at the opposite end of the spectrum. I’m travelling, seeing the world & creating stuff because I want maximum purpose, stimulation, and to stay as young and vital as I can for as long as I can. But I’m only 53.
Let’s see how I feel, in 10, 20, even 30 years time.
For now I’ll meet The Old Grey Thinker halfway. Make the tea. Skip the artisan cheese. Refuse to be on fire if fire’s not your thing. Survive modern life without arson, by all means.
But find your reason to get up and feel truly alive. Even if it’s a small one.
Because I’ve seen what the alternative does, and the tea tastes a lot better when there’s a reason to be drinking it.
📍 Encinitas, San Diego 🇺🇸
Find The Old Grey Thinker here, he writes daily and if you like dry British humour you’ll enjoy his style, plus he’s frequently very enlightening. (He’s also an avid tea drinker, so we’d get on like a house on fire!)
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