Your Purpose is Not Your Priority

There’s not much that reinvigorates me more than traveling does (scheduling and airport SNAFUs aside). My family and I just returned from spending a week hiking, kayaking, and exploring Maine. There’s nothing like a cabin on a quiet lake to think and inspire meaningful action on new ideas. My husband Matt and I came away with a short but exciting list of items we want to accomplish together by the end of the year. I also spent some time reflecting on a trip ALPs took to the beautiful University of Montana to deliver leadership content to the impressive 2024 class of Fellows at the More Perfect Union Fellowship Convening

Whitley Yates, who currently serves as the Director of Diversity and Engagement for the Indiana Republican Party, was one of the guest speakers during the weekend. Whitley is one of the best public speakers I’ve had the pleasure of listening to. I highly recommend you look her up. During an evening fireside chat, Whitley shared her incredible life story and (politely) smacked us all in the face with a mic-drop-worthy one-liner: 

Your purpose may not be your priority.

Let’s sit on that for a minute and let it sink in. 

How many times in our lives have we chosen a path because we felt that it was what we should be doing versus what we truly desire to do? We have these shimmers of new ideas and thoughts of making a change that pops up, and as soon as they reveal themselves to us, we’re shoving them back into the dark corners of our minds. No, no, stay back there, please. On the other hand, we SAY something is our priority, but our actions show everything else to the contrary. Why is that? 

After ruminating on this for weeks, I’ve come to realize this quote means two things to me: 

  1. A constant idea or thought crosses your mind that hints at a new path (purpose), but you don’t listen to your intuition and come up with a bunch of reasons to talk yourself out of it;

-OR-

  1. You think/say something is your priority/goal, but you don’t take the necessary steps and do the hard work to see it through.

Most people have one of these reasons that dominate their lives. The first one has been my challenge over the years. 

Fresh out of the Coast Guard, I spent nearly 10 years working in regulatory and government affairs, representing the shipping sector of the U.S. oil and gas industry and lobbying Members of Congress and agencies. A certain mystique came with the work, and I’m grateful I got to do and experience a lot that most young professionals in their late 20s and early 30s don’t. I had some incredible mentors who showed me the ropes and taught me the right way to operate in that arena. But, I finally ended up getting burned out on politics and asking hard-working individuals to write a check for a politician who supports their business, a politician that I personally would not vote for. As you can imagine, the soul-sucking factor started to go up, and I just didn’t want to be a part of it anymore. 

I was frustrated with not being sure about what I wanted to do next and being very insecure about leaving a career I should be doing. I mostly felt that way because I spent four years completing two Master's Degrees in International Relations and Political Management and thought I should “properly” use them. I sat on an idea, an intuition, and didn’t do anything about it. Matt and I were dating at the time, and he listened to many semi-dreamy rants for too long. “Why can’t I just find a job where I run and help veterans? How hard is that?” This was during a stretch of time when he and I trained for marathons and fundraised for military and veteran groups in our spare time. Full disclosure—there was also a rant about getting paid to read whatever books I wanted and eat Doritos. One can dream. 

Little did I know I would find a job doing just that (running, not the Doritos) when I was fortunate enough to join the staff of Team RWB. But it took a major leap of faith. Frankly, I also had to get over my ego to leave a significant job and take a salary cut by $30,000. For too long, my “purpose” was to preserve my ego and my perceived worth. Doing a 180-degree turn in my career was one of the best decisions of my life, certainly in my professional life. I added fresh parts to my business development and marketing skills. Not to mention, I was gifted some of the greatest friendships in my life working on these teams. Looking back on it, my worries and ego seem so pointless and dumb. Today, I still get stuck on the “shoulds” of life, but the little voice that says so has gotten quieter with each new venture I try. 

On the other hand, we can say something is our goal, but fail to take on the hard work required to accomplish it. In this case, the “purpose” we are stating that we have isn’t really something that we want. Otherwise, we would kick our own proverbial asses to make it happen. Often, this looks like something I refer to as the “wait until”. 

“When I finish this project, I’ll take the vacation”. 

“When the kids return to school, I’ll start that certification program”.

“When I lose 20 lbs and get in shape, I’ll join the CrossFit gym”. 

We are putting things off “until.” Until, what? If you’re always waiting for the optimal time, it will never be the optimal time. No amount of kettlebells, gym membership, new whizz-bang juicer, required CRM software, or “when such-and-such is over” reasoning is going to make us take care of ourselves, get healthy, learn a new skill, or make progress. It’s turning our intentions into actions, into a new habit, and hard work, which is going to get us to the goal line. Our excuses and our optimal timing desires are getting in our way. We need to just do it or be quiet about it and find something else we will actually follow through with. 

“The fool, with all his other faults, has this also—he is always getting ready to live.”
— Seneca

I’m guilty of this, too. I’m thinking of starting a venture I’m curious about right now, and I’m still so hesitant. Even though I have access to training modules and programs to help me get started, I still have this feeling of, “Where do I begin? What if this doesn’t work? What if this new path is a failure? How much actual work/effort is this going to take?” 

We ignore the signs because we want something else. We stay stagnant because we’re afraid to move. We’re afraid of change, of screwing up, of other people’s opinions and reactions, to our own opinions. We think too much about what we want instead of what we need. We don’t do it because it’s hard. 

During our Maine trip, we did some challenging hikes that included scrambling up rock ledges, often within feet of cliff drop-offs. I watched with amazement and sweaty palms as my little daughter jumped from rock to rock, picking her own path with a healthy mix of recklessness and confidence. Her innate sense of knowing she can do it and then adjusting after she falls made me so proud. Her priority was doing the hike with as little help as possible. She didn’t wait for the perfect moment to jump to the next rock. She picked her path, jumped, and trusted whatever instincts she had. She didn’t need to get ready. She was ready. 

She picked her purpose and pursued it - an innocent reminder for us all to either jump for the next rock, or pick another one we actually wish to land on.