Lately, I’ve been noticing a theme both in my work with clients and in my own reflections.

When we talk about purpose, it’s often wrapped in urgency. Pressure. A quiet, nagging panic that sounds something like:

“I should know this by now.”
“Everyone else seems to have it figured out.”
“What if I never do?”

For many people, purpose doesn’t feel inspiring or expansive. It feels heavy. Loaded. Almost like a test we’re worried we might fail.

And honestly? That makes sense.

Purpose feels big. And when something feels big, our bodies react. Hearts race. Stomachs flip. Thoughts spiral. Before we know it, we’re no longer reflecting, we’re bracing. We’re anxious.

Anxiety, excitement, and the story we tell ourselves

Here’s something fascinating, though.

From a physiological perspective, anxiety and excitement feel almost identical. The same racing heart. The same surge of energy. The same sense of anticipation.

The body doesn’t actually know the difference.

What does change everything is the story we attach to those sensations.

So what if we changed the story?

What if, instead of saying:

“I’m anxious because I don’t know my purpose,”

we tried:

“I’m excited because I’m on a journey to discover something meaningful.”

What if we loosened our grip on the need for certainty, and made room for curiosity? For playfulness. Even for a sense of wonder?

Purpose isn’t something you solve

One of the biggest myths about purpose is that it’s a riddle to crack. A single answer we’re meant to uncover and then lock into place.

But in my experience, purpose doesn’t work like that.

Purpose is less like a destination and more like a relationship. Something that evolves over time. Something shaped by:

• what we pay attention to
• what brings us alive
• what feels meaningful to contribute right now

It deepens as we live, experiment, reflect, and respond to the world around us.

Often, purpose doesn’t reveal itself before we move.
It reveals itself because we do.

A gentle reminder if you’re feeling stuck

If you’re in the thick of trying to “figure it all out,” consider this your permission slip:

• You’re allowed to explore without knowing.
• You’re allowed to feel excited about the unknown.
• You’re allowed to trust that clarity often comes through action, not overthinking.

You don’t have to force answers. You don’t have to rush the process. You don’t have to be anywhere other than where you are right now.

Reflection questions to sit with as you ponder

If this idea resonates, you might like to reflect on a few of these questions – slowly, gently, without needing perfect answers:

• When I think about “finding my purpose,” what thoughts or emotions come up for me?
• What might change if I approached this journey with curiosity instead of pressure?
• What activities, moments, or conversations have felt most energising or meaningful to me lately?
• In what areas of my life do I already feel a sense of contribution or impact?
• What would it look like to follow the spark rather than wait for total clarity?
• How can I support myself to feel both safe and excited in the unknown?
• And perhaps most importantly: how can I be a little gentler with myself along the way?

As Fritz Perls once said:

“Fear is excitement without the breath.”

So take a breath.

You’re doing better than you think.
And your purpose doesn’t need to be rushed. It’s already unfolding.