What's the point of Finding Purpose?

Lucy Le Messurier Scott: author of this blog - London, England

When I had my post-dysentery epiphany in the back of a rickshaw on the dusty streets of Kerala, I thought, ‘I want to be an actress! Finally - this is it!’ But I was wrong.

I’ve spent the last 48 years looking for my purpose (I’m 48). This isn’t just the stuff of daydreams; I give things a proper go. I’ve tried acting, journalism, advertising, copywriting, design, e-learning, TV development, talent scouting, corporate branding, yoga teaching and digital production. There have been moments of joy, pride and solid accomplishment - which have all felt great - but something’s always been missing.

Essentially, I’ve been searching for that elusive ‘thing’ I can do that’ll make the world a genuinely better place – so I’ve also given my time to mental health charities, environmental organisations and purpose-driven startups. But nothing’s been right. As my neighbour once said, “You’re nothing if not resilient”. (Ok, ok, she might have been commenting on a long line of dating disasters, but there are parallels.) Some less generous folk may even say I’m fickle, I’ve got no staying power, or I have a seriously low boredom threshold. But I’m not sure I agree.

Inspiration’s got a lot to answer for

The thing is, I’ve had great mentors.

My grandfather had a swift U-turn in his 40s: while captaining a ship in the navy, he had his ‘calling’. Before the family knew what’d hit them, they’d moved across the country so he could attend theological college, swapping sailing for sermons and caps for cassocks. He did it in style and with great purpose.

He took calculated risks for the greater good: leaving his central London church unlocked 24/7, so anyone seeking sanctuary would have a place to go. And by anyone, I mean anyone. I wish I could have seen the look on the parishioners’ faces when a sleepy tramp emerged from under the altar during a Sunday service, nodded, and went on his way. Grandpa also recognised and rewarded entrepreneurial spirit, giving a local youngster access to the crypt to launch something called ‘Student Magazine’ – which turned out to be the start of Richard Branson’s career. Big shoes to fill.

His daughter, Joe, had a similarly purpose-driven path. Following a spate of her friends being banged up overseas, she worked tirelessly to change the law so that British citizens could serve their sentences back home. Some had been incarcerated for drugs (don’t judge, it was the 70s); some had committed no offence at all – merely finding themselves unwitting political pawns. The charity she formed – Prisoners Abroad – continues to provide hope to prisoners and their families, during imprisonment as well as resettlement (a vital yet hugely underfunded service, which prevents homelessness and reoffending). More big shoes.

To add purposeless insult to injury, my little brother’s even found his. He once said he wakes up every morning and looks forward to starting work. What? Even on a Monday? Yep. This blew my mind.

You might say purpose is in my blood. But what the hell is it?

Ego’s got a lot to answer for too

My inner monologue’s always been very demanding, ‘What can I do that’ll hit the giddy heights of what my family’s achieved? How can I create something equally astonishing? Maybe I’ll be named in a famous person’s autobiography too!’

On reflection, I’ve been looking for a way to make a difference that’ll also make me look fabulous in the process.

(Cue recognisable sound effect from 1990s British TV)

Time to buy a lab coat?

For the past 18 months, I’ve been diving headfirst into the science of positive psychology. Like many finding purpose stories, I stumbled on this completely by chance. While living in Sydney, a friend was offered free tickets to an event that had ‘something to do with the brain’. Knowing I’m the eternal inspiration chaser, she invited me. And I was hooked. This set off a chain of events that’s seen me devouring books and podcasts, completing a positive psychology and wellbeing diploma with the Langley Group Institute, going to events, conferences and courses all around the world, and even forging early-days friendships with some of my industry heroes.

When I discovered pos psych, it felt like something clicked: for pretty much the first time ever, I’m on the fringes of an industry that speaks my language. Unlike my choices to date, I’m not there because other people say I’m good at it or to feed my ego (hello, acting), and I’m not making a ton of money from it (I’m not making any).

One exceptional stroke of luck was nabbing a ticket to the first ever World Meaning and Purpose Summit. I got lucky: I saw something on LinkedIn and pounced. And then it was sold out. During my diploma, I’d spent a lot of time exploring ‘positive meaning’: delving into the research and theories; cracking open my personal values; getting clarity on what really matters to me. And the summit was a game-changer.

Despite turning temporarily mute when coming face-to-face with the people I’d been studying (super smart individuals often have this effect on me), I had some interesting conversations and came away with the nub of an idea. Maybe my purpose wasn’t about creating something from scratch and being celebrated for my brilliance – maybe it was about turning the spotlight off the self and illuminating work others are doing instead?

Gravitating towards generativity

I guess midlife is a natural time to start to wonder about our legacies. I don’t have kids: I’d have loved to, and until my mid-40s it was my core driver (hence all those questionable dating disasters and freezing eggs like I was preparing for the apocalypse), but it hasn’t happened. So that’s out.

I’d also failed at finding a way to change the world. So, what else was there?

Refusing to be sucked into a void of eternal nothingness, I started asking friends, acquaintances – anyone – what makes them tick; what’s their legacy? And then it dawned on me: does it really need to be something massive? Intentional, everyday actions can have an equally positive difference, just on a much smaller scale – and still foster prosocial behaviour, strengthen relationships, spread kindness and make the world a slightly better place, one tiny ripple at a time.

Finding purpose

Every time I hear someone’s finding purpose story, it’s like a little light goes on inside me. I get butterflies in my stomach and I can’t stop smiling. It’s been this way for years, but it’s only now I’ve studied the science that I’ve got the language to understand why.

These positive emotions have a heliotropic effect – energising me, making me look outwards (goodbye, navel gazing), connecting with others through eye contact or smiles (yes, even in London where it’s a cardinal sin) and sharing moments of positivity resonance. When people inspire me, I notice I live a better life, I pick up more litter, I choose to help strangers, I donate to charities, I listen, and I notice. In short, I make more prosocial choices. It’s good for me and (hopefully) it’s good for others too (the man who’s adamantly refused to acknowledge my morning hello for the past 365 days may disagree, but it’s now too awkward to stop).

And this got me thinking: if I get the good vibes from hearing other people’s stories, would others also experience the same? Could it inspire individuals looking for their purpose to take positive action themselves – to start initiatives, make changes, or even keep going when things get tough? Could it help brilliant work that’s already out there get the recognition and support it deserves? And over time, could all of this have a greater impact on the way we interact with each other – and with the planet?

And so this blog was born.