117 - The things we do on purpose
Because purpose can be found in the small things
The past few weeks have been… interesting, for various reasons. I’ve officially commenced my little world tour and somehow managed to be in five cities over the past four weeks. Because I’m trying to keep costs down, I’ve turned it into a “family-and-friends” tour, which honestly has been a great hack. My last stop was at my sister’s. She moved to a new country about a year ago, and this is the first time I’ve been able to visit, so of course I was excited.
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One of my favourite things about travel is how quickly it reminds you that there’s no one right way to live a life. What counts as “normal” simply depends on where you are and what you see around you. Cultures shift, norms shift, even the tiny daily things shift, and that reminder is always grounding.
Another thing I love about travel is the random encounters with complete strangers that somehow restore your faith in humanity. On this trip, a casual elevator conversation led to a stranger inviting me into his home and introducing me to his friends (solo travel can be wild like that).
It was a group of middle-aged adults — average age about 40 — so of course, existential conversations were flying around. Somewhere in the middle of everything, the topic of purpose came up. One of the women shared that her big life question right now is: “What is my purpose?”
It made me pause.
We use that word so casually, but also so heavily.
Purpose. What does it even really mean?
Depending on who you ask, purpose is everything from a grand mission to a divine assignment to a self-help slogan written by a man who wakes up at 4 a.m. and starts his day with an ice bath. Personally, I suspect the version most of us carry comes from those books, the ones that make purpose sound like a capital-P Project.
I think it’s the great existential “Why am I here?” that many of us ask from time to time. And because the question feels so big, we assume the answer must also be big. Something profound. Something worthy. Something that will make for a dramatic autobiography one day.
But what if it isn’t that deep?
Or maybe it is that deep, just in a different direction.
Personally, I don’t wake up wondering if I’ve discovered my “true calling.” I think more about impact than I do about purpose. And when I think about impact, I think about how our everyday behaviours, however tiny or ordinary, shape the experiences of the people around us. If our interactions are mostly positive, then by extension, our impact on the world is positive too.
Medicine brings this home for me. As a student, medicine looked like a noble calling. The way people talked about doctors, you’d think we were divinely nominated saints. In reality, the “calling” turned out to be long hours of studying, tough exams, and doing whatever it took to qualify. And even now, being qualified doesn’t mean I can magically cure anyone. Often, I am simply part of a system that frustrates people who have very real problems.
But the patients who leave my clinic the happiest aren’t impressed by my title or my clinical knowledge. They are the ones who feel heard. The ones who say, “No one has ever explained this to me like this before.” The ones I call after a bereavement. The ones I reassure that the symptoms keeping them up at night aren’t as sinister as Google suggests.
And honestly, the same applies everywhere else. I still remember the teachers who made difficult subjects make sense. I remember colleagues who check in when I’m not my usual self. I’ve had my day brightened by taxi drivers, or a customer-care rep who absorbed my 8 a.m. frustration with grace and still helped me solve my problem.
None of these moments will lead to world peace or end world hunger, but they’ve all counted towards making my experience of the world a more positive one.
That’s why I prefer the idea of living with intent over searching for purpose. Living with the intent to make a positive impact on the people I encounter daily makes me more likely to actually create that impact, without waiting for some grand epiphany to descend from the sky.
Every day brings opportunities to touch other people’s lives, quietly, intentionally, without fanfare. You don’t need to discover the cure for cancer or stand on a TEDx stage to have an impact. Purpose doesn’t have to be world peace or a Nobel Prize.
Maybe your purpose is being the daughter/friend/sister who shows up.
Maybe it’s sharing a personal story that encourages someone else.
Maybe it’s raising well-mannered, responsible children who contribute positively to society.
Maybe it’s unlocking your own capabilities by making promises to yourself and keeping them.
Maybe it’s noticing the tiny intersections where your life touches others, and choosing to be a force for good in those everyday places.
Maybe purpose isn’t something we find, but something we create in the small ways we choose to move through the world.
I’d love to hear how you think about purpose — what does it look like in your everyday life?
December!!!
I have to say, 2025 has been a tough year, and I’m genuinely glad it’s coming to an end. It’s also the year I’ve been the most inconsistent with this newsletter, and somehow the year I’m proudest of myself for continuing to show up at all. Even on the difficult days, I’ve tried to remind myself that there are still things to be grateful for, and that has helped me hold onto the good.
I’m currently in Lagos for the holidays and looking forward to spending Christmas with my parents and siblings (minus one) for the first time in many, many years. It feels like a soft landing at the end of a long year.
And in the spirit of unlocking capabilities, I’ve decided to facilitate a small habit-reset workshop/bootcamp in the new year. I haven’t finished conceptualising it yet, but I’ve promised myself that 2026 will be about more audacity and less self-doubt. The idea is to have a group chat where I guide us through reflecting on how to realistically stick to the promises we’re making to ourselves this new year.
The details are still forming, but I’m announcing it now so you can help keep me accountable and also so you can join in if it speaks to you.
Here’s wishing you a life filled with purposeful interactions and the happiest of happy holidays!
Chioma.