Lately, I’m quite occupied preparing the first Pilot Project, A Good Life Webinar. It’s still running. (Wish me luck, guys!). Honestly, sometimes it’s kinda of draining my energy. A lot of things to do and think about, specifically and in detail. Actually, it’s like the simple, slow-living me versus the extraordinary me who’s a productive monster. Sometimes, this random thought hit me: Hey, self…please remind me, why am I doing this again?
Not in a dramatic way, of course. Just one of those late-afternoon self-talk moments while staring at blank pages, messy slides, and half-finished coffee. And then it struck me. I guess I remember the reason behind it. I wasn’t doing this for the fancy bio line or the nice feedback (well, those are bonuses and nice though). I wanted to do it because I know how it feels to be stuck, to wake up and feel like everything’s just… too much. And if something I’ve learned could help someone out there see a little bit of light, that’s worth it.
Funny thing is, when I help others feel better, I feel better too. It’s like the universe saying, “See? This is your lane.”
I used to think purpose was this big grand thing, like writing a book that changes lives or saving the planet. (Not gonna lie, that’s one of my dreams, too.) But while we try to achieve that grand thing, maybe it can be simpler. Perhaps the purpose is just doing what you love, in a way that helps someone breathe easier. It’s that small mix of “I care” and “I can.” And when we find that combo, it’s like plugging into our own power source. We don’t need external motivation anymore. We just want to keep going.
My body actually is tired, but my mind feels energetic.The kind of tired that feels purposeful, not pointless. I guess that’s the funny thing about purpose. It doesn’t drain us; it actually recharges us. When we do something that feels aligned, the tiredness feels different. It’s the good kind, like after a long walk that clears our head.
Simon Sinek calls it “starting with why.” He says people don’t follow what you do. They follow why you do it. And I think that’s what makes purpose so powerful. When our “why” is clear, when it’s rooted in meaning, not metrics, everything we do feels lighter, even the hard parts. We stop chasing approval and start creating impact.
I think that’s the magic of it. Purpose gives us weight and lightness at the same time. Weight, because it anchors us. We know why we wake up, why we try again, and why we keep showing up even when things get messy. But also lightness, because it takes the focus off ourselves. We stop obsessing about being perfect and start caring about being useful. And that shift changes everything.
“The giver’s advantage.” Adam Grant may call it. When we give not to please but to serve, we end up fuller, not emptier.
Because giving from purpose doesn’t take from us, it multiplies us. It builds our self-worth quietly, from the inside out. Our confidence grows, not from compliments, but from contribution. Something that makes us realize: I matter, because what I do matters.
That’s the kind of self-worth that lasts. It’s not built on followers, achievements, or how loud the applause is. It’s built on the quiet knowing that we’re doing what we’re meant to do, even if only a few people notice. Honestly, I truly don’t care how many people will join my webinar, but the ones who join surely need something from me. And somehow, that’s enough. Because every time we give, whether our time, our story, or our care, we’re also reminding ourselves that we still have something to offer. That we’re not just existing; we’re participating.
Even Tony Stark (Hello, I Love You, 3000) had to figure that out. His purpose didn’t exactly start nobly. It started flashy. Big ego, big energy, big everything. But somewhere along the way, between all the noise and the explosions, he learned that peace hits different when we’re living for something bigger than ourselves. And maybe that’s what purpose really is. Not noise, but clarity. Not a grand entrance, but a steady direction.
Or take Moana for example, we don’t always set out to be “important.” We just follow that small, stubborn pull in our heart, the one that keeps saying, “This feels right.” And somehow, without even realizing it, that’s the path that makes us stronger, and finally can sing, “I am Moanaaaaaaaa”. As for me, purpose isn’t about chasing the light. It’s about becoming the kind of light someone else can see by.
The truth is, purpose isn’t about fixing everything. It’s about being someone in the middle of everything; steady, kind, useful. And maybe that’s how we get stronger without even noticing it: Not by pushing harder, but by giving lighter.
Not by chasing meaning, but by creating it, quietly, every day.
Love,
Kirana
