When I was a hospice volunteer, I became especially attached to a patient named Anna. She had spent years caring for her husband through a long battle with prostate cancer. After his death, Anna left her job as a university English professor and devoted herself to something she had always loved: writing poetry.
Each day, stories above the bustle of Chicago in her modest condo, Anna would write. She submitted countless poems to journals and magazines. Her favourite moment came each afternoon, when she checked the mail or opened her email to see if one had been accepted for publication.
I met Anna after her colon cancer had spread. Over the course of several months, I watched her decline—first physically, and then mentally. But during my final visit, a brief moment of clarity broke through. She turned to me and asked if I was working on any poetry. When I said yes, she insisted I print it out on her computer right then and there.
Anna died just a few days later. When her family and I sorted through her things, we found the printout of my poem on her desk. It was covered in red notes she had made in the margins.
Up until her very last moments, Anna was doing something deeply meaningful to her. She was helping others write better poetry.
Her story is just one of many that I’ve encountered in my years of hospice work. It reflects something I’ve come to believe deeply: Purpose is not some grand achievement. It’s often found in the everyday things we love. And while I hesitate to call anything in life a rule, here are five guiding principles that I’ve seen help people find and live out their own sense of purpose.
Rule 1: Love the Process
Anna’s story reveals a critical distinction between what I call Big P Purpose (the grand, goal-driven kind) and Little p purpose (the kind we can live every day). Big P Purpose often comes with anxiety and pressure. Little purpose, on the other hand, is about the joy of doing. Anna didn’t write poetry to get published; she wrote because she loved the act itself.
Success wasn’t defined by the outcome. It was defined by the process.
Rule 2: Purpose Should Be Impossible to Fail
Many people assume purpose is only valid if it leads to measurable success. You must climb a mountain or win an award. But real purpose isn’t about the destination. It’s about spending more time in flow—those moments when you’re so engaged that time slips away.
Failure only occurs when you stop enjoying what once gave you energy. That’s your cue to shift, not to give up.
Rule 3: There Are No Rules (Except These Few)
Purpose doesn’t have to be lifelong, world-changing, or even particularly serious. It can last a season. It can be personal. Anna’s purpose once looked like teaching; later, it became poetry.
Purpose can be public or private. Quiet or loud. What matters is that it feels alive to you.
Rule 4: Be Purpose-Promiscuous
One of the most limiting beliefs I hear is that we each have a single “true” purpose. But people are rarely one-dimensional. It’s OK to have many passions, many lights.
Anna didn’t just write poetry; she also loved board games. She spent countless evenings with friends from her building, laughing around the game table. Your purpose doesn’t need to be monogamous. Let it be expansive.
Rule 5: Let Purpose Connect You
Purpose doesn’t need to be solitary. In fact, the most meaningful versions often aren’t. If you traveled up the five flights of steps with me into Anna’s apartment, you would have thought she wasn’t very wealthy. Her walls were mostly barren, and her furniture was shabby.
Yet, if you saw the number of artists, writers, and creatives that came through her doors during those last few months, you would know that she had a wealth of connections. And those connections meant everything.
When you pursue something that lights you up, others will be drawn to that energy. Purpose becomes a magnet for connection. Your collaborators, mentors, and friends are waiting.
