Legacy, purpose, and the pressure to have it all figured out
“Purpose Anxiety” is real and I’m at peace with it.
Since my interview with Laura of Greatness Retreat a few weeks ago, I’ve been thinking about her comment on the word legacy.
She told me: “You know, [it’s a] big word. And I don't like to use it because it can scare a person—like oh, I have no idea what my legacy is. I can't go on this retreat.”
I have similar baggage thoughts about the word purpose.
Unless your life’s purpose is inherently obvious, in which case you are probably in the minority, the term can feel elusive and loaded with expectations. The Associated Press even wrote about this recently, referencing “purpose anxiety – the gnawing sense that one’s life should have an overarching purpose, but it’s unclear how to discover it.”
I’ve never felt driven by a single, defining purpose. And yet the concept has consistently shown up in my life - so much that I’ve created a Substack asking other people about it.
I always liked to write, and though I initially pursued a career in copywriting, it didn’t feel like the reason I was put on this earth. I shifted to PR, because I was good at connecting people and sought a more dynamic role. Landing in the beauty industry was fun but incidental; what excited me were the human stories behind each brand.
Through a former job, I had the opportunity to visit a Shaman, who told me that my lifetime mission was peace. I wasn’t sure if that meant helping others find peace or cultivating my own, but neither particularly resonated.
(A few hours earlier, the Shaman had told my boss her mission was to heal; she had created a healing skin care brand, so at least one reading was accurate.)
In my last role, purpose became a literal part of my job: I created campaigns for our brand’s mission of elevating the professional skin care industry. It was a great fit: I could spend more time telling the human stories that resonated with me while spotlighting others doing good work.
Our mission was driven by the founder, who was so passionate about purpose, she wrote a literal book about it. And, somewhat ironically, I’m featured in it, as someone living her purpose.
She suggested that what you loved to do between the ages of nine and twelve could be a window to your “why.” In my case, that was journaling and scrapbooking, which she linked to my communications role — writing, shaping stories, and building a library of resources for others.
Except - in our actual conversation months earlier - I mentioned these hobbies not in relation to my career, but explaining my love for Instagram. (I know, I’m such a weirdo. I still like Instagram!)
There was truth in both takes: I loved writing narratives that connected with people, and I was a very good record keeper. But the latter was more because I never wanted to forget a memory, whether it was the emotional rollercoaster of a middle school dance or the thrill of the hike I climbed last weekend.
Sadly, I haven’t found a way to monetize memory-keeping yet.
More recently, I did a meditation where I asked to be shown my purpose. Pretty quickly, the word inspire came up. I can assure you, there is plenty about my life that is not aspirational, and yet, it felt right.
For years, friends have said that my hiking and adventuring inspired them. And while I’m probably not going to win any prestigious writing awards, I have the skills to spotlight people who inspire me. You can see where this is going… not long after, The Reignition Project was born.
And look, I don’t know that my life’s calling is to inspire. That sounds very lofty and self-important. But, for now, it also feels like a great reason to get out of bed.
The “for now” is key. The idea of a single driving purpose may haunt me, but I think it’s just as likely that our purpose – if we have one at all – changes over time.
You’ll see that theme in my next two interviews coming up in the next few weeks: the idea that purpose isn’t fixed, but evolves with you. And that feels a little less anxiety-producing.
What about you?
Do you believe you have a purpose?
Has it guided your choices in life or career?
Has it shifted over time?
Reading this, I couldn’t help but think — maybe purpose isn’t about chasing the one big thing. Maybe it’s about stacking the small, daily resets that keep us grounded. For me, that looks like journaling, reflection, and noticing the moments I’d otherwise scroll past. That’s where purpose hides.
Such a thoughtful piece. Lots to to consider here. I think giving people's stories spotlight is such a beautiful thing to do. Stories give us all meaning and perspective. Thank you for this work, Lori.