When Purpose Appeared:
A Speculative Account
Some where, some time in the 14th century…
Some where, some time in the 14th century CE, Some One was speaking English and the word the word “purpose” tumbled from their lips. The well-traveled word, which would eventually become known to mean “something set up as an object or end to be attained : intention” made its debut as a noun. It meandered from the Latin proponere to the Anglo-French poser, and then to the Middle English purpos before finally making its way to English (for those of you that want that want to fall down the etymology rabbit hole, I highly recommend Merriam-Websters Time Traveler).
It is amusing to imagine the newly-minted, round fulsome word, first spoken by Some One, then Some One Else and so on and so on, slowly insinuating itself into the language of the everyday. Was it so heady and heavy as it can seem now? Did people struggle to find it? Given that the words “angst” and “existential crisis” had yet to make it into the English lexicon, it is easy to speculate that, so many centuries ago, it might have been an easier prospect to determine your purpose, and once you found it, stick with it for a while.
What is my purpose?
But perhaps that is an inaccurate imagining. Maybe, some time in the 14th century, some where, Some One sat on a mountainside gazing up at fine mesh of starlight suspended across the night sky. The light of the quilted crescent of the moon cast tiny slivers of light across the backs of the flock of sheep asleep in the field that they were there to tend. Some One looked up, and asked the stars in their multitudes “what is my purpose?” (or whatever the equivalent be in 14th century English).
I imagine the word purpose tumbling through time, coalescing into a seemingly endless assembly of unrecorded moments of people speaking about purpose. Those myriad moments propelled the word from a noun to a verb meaning, “as an aim to oneself”? As it’s meaning shifted, did it’s atomic weight increase?
Now that is a word for it, how do you find it?
Because, with those two-syllables there can also be this feeling, this heaviness, this weight, this sense, that purpose should have an objective, an aim, a result, something attained. There can be this feeling that purpose should be deep, powerful, encompassing. A lightning bolt illuminating the dark sky of the mind. There can be this feeling, that purpose clear and singular should call and claim you, you should not call it.
When purpose doesn’t appear…
But what if it doesn’t call or appear and just continues to elude?
There are those that find this discomfiting. It’s absence can be experienced as a lack of direction or meaning. They search in books, workplaces and places of worship, politics and public squares, poetry and pint glasses, solitary walks, signals, and signs. Despite mounting an active search, purpose can continue to elude.
Yet, the pursuit of purpose need not be problematic. How can we create space for purpose to appear, how can we scale it to make it manageable? How can we make the pursuit of it more pleasant?
Next week, we will explore some short exercises to play with that notion of finding your purpose. Also, next month I will be joining forces with the amazing team at Koppett for a Story Circle where, through finding and sharing stories, we will explore the theme of purpose.
In the meantime, a question: what does a sense of purpose mean to you and why is it important?
