The Honest Question About Life’s Purpose (and Why I’m Not Asking It Anymore)

The Joy of Not Knowing What the Hell I’m Doing

Every so often, someone will look at me—usually after hearing I’ve written a few books, launched a game, or wandered off into some soul-searching jungle retreat—and say something like, “Wow, it must feel amazing to be living your life’s purpose.”

And I laugh. Hard. Like, deep belly laugh hard.

Because here’s the thing: I’m not living my life’s purpose. Mostly because I’m not entirely convinced there is such a thing.

It’s not that I don’t believe in meaning. It’s that I don’t believe it’s something you chase down like a dog on a scent. Meaning, for me, has always shown up more like a stray cat—unexpected, aloof, and usually when I’m barefoot in the kitchen.

I left my job as a marketing director some 20 years ago with no grand plan. People kept asking what I was going to do next, and I remember saying, “I don’t know what I want to be doing, but I know there’s nothing I’d rather be doing differently right now.” That’s still true. I’ve been guided by curiosity more than purpose. Intrigue more than identity.

Once, I played the saxophone. Someone told me I should stick with it because I was good at it. But being good at something doesn’t mean it’s your destiny. Sometimes it just means you’re good at it. And that’s it. (I also once made a damn good mushroom risotto. Doesn’t mean I should open a restaurant.)

What I find funny—and I mean genuinely funny—is how the search for “life’s purpose” has become another form of pressure. Another self-improvement checkbox. Something that sounds spiritual but usually just ends up making people feel bad about where they are.

And yet here I am, publishing another book (Dying to Live) and launching a card game (Cool It!), both totally different in tone, in purpose, in reach. One explores death, the other teaches couples how to argue better. There’s no coherent brand strategy here. No purpose narrative that ties it all together. Just me, doing what feels right.

In a world of Instagram gloss and curated timelines, I want to be the glitch. The reminder that not everything has to line up, make sense, or follow a through-line. Life is not a TED Talk. It’s a buffet. Take what you like. Go back for seconds. Ignore the salmon mousse.

These days, I don’t ask if I’m fulfilling some life purpose. I ask if I’m content. If not, I tweak. That’s it. That’s the compass.

Not purpose. Presence.

Not a calling. Just curiosity with good timing.

So am I living my purpose?

Certainly not.

But is there something I’d rather be doing differently at the moment?

Nope.

And for now, that’s enough.