Your Purpose is Life
I know I write a lot about purpose, but most people don’t really know what it is or how to find it. I used to think of purpose as this grand destination, some kind of ultimate calling I’d discover down the road that would make everything clear. I spent years chasing that idea, waiting for a sign or breakthrough to make me feel like my life had real meaning. But the island has a way of simplifying things, stripping away all the noise and expectations until you’re left with something quieter and more powerful. It taught me that purpose isn’t waiting somewhere in the future—it’s something you live every single day, whether you realize it or not.
One morning, early in my time here, I took a walk along the shore. The fishermen were already gathering, getting their boats ready to push off for the day. They moved with a calm rhythm, laughing with each other as they prepared their nets, completely at ease in their work. They didn’t seem burdened by questions of “purpose” or “meaning”—they were simply doing what they had done every day, just as their parents and grandparents had done before them. It wasn’t about finding a higher purpose; they were living it, right there, in each simple, steady movement.
Later that evening, I found myself sitting on the beach, watching the sunset blaze across the sky. And in that moment, something hit me. I realized that purpose wasn’t some grand achievement waiting for me in the future. Purpose was in the small, everyday things—the laughter of the fishermen, the steady pull of the tides, the simple beauty of the world unfolding around me. Purpose was right here, in the way I felt fully present, fully alive.
The truth is, life doesn’t have to be about striving or proving ourselves. We don’t need to achieve or “find” something to be worthy. On the island, no one is pressured to chase after a purpose. The farmers don’t tend to their crops because they’re looking for meaning—they do it because it’s a part of life, a way of giving and receiving that feels natural. The mothers cooking meals, the children playing on the shore, the elders telling stories under the stars—they all understand, whether consciously or not, that living itself is the purpose.
The island taught me that I am enough, just as I am. And so are you. Your purpose isn’t some future milestone, some title or role you have to earn. It’s in the way you move through your day, the way you connect with others, the way you experience life in all its small, beautiful moments. It’s in every breath, every laugh, every conversation.
So if you’re searching for purpose, don’t look too far ahead. Don’t wait for some big, defining moment. Instead, try to feel it in the present—in the small actions, in the kindness you show, in the moments of joy and stillness. Purpose is woven into each day, like the waves on the shore, constant and quietly powerful. Simply being here, being present, is enough.
The lesson I’d share with you is this: You are enough, right here, right now. Let your purpose be as simple and beautiful as breathing, as steady as the tide, and as woven into life as the air you breathe. Let it be in the way you embrace each moment, no matter how small. That’s what the island has taught me, and that’s what I hope you feel too.
Lucas Islander
Leave a comment