We have a device in our pockets that gives us instant access to the entire library of human knowledge. We can see what’s happening in a war on the other side of the planet, we can learn about the cultures of ancient civilizations, we can connect with people from a thousand different tribes.
But most of us don’t know the first name of the person who lives in the apartment next door.
And what’s worse, many of us have lost touch with the person who lives inside our own skin.
I am personally responsible for this in my own life. There was a time when I was unable to turn off the noise from the world outside. That I was unable to listen to the quiet in the world inside due to my autism; it required alcohol and excuses. Even I was able to turn down the racket from the outside, in part. It will, for my life, never be silent, no matter how I try. But I work every day to ready myself. To keep my waters even for my day’s adventures. And, I fail, a lot.
But I put in the work.
This brings us to the most difficult and necessary work a human being can do: the work of figuring out who you are and what you are for. It’s easy to say, “know thyself.” But that is never enough. The real mission is to find that one thing your soul needs to do, the skill you are naturally good at, the work that doesn’t feel like work. That is your gift. And it is the thing you are meant to share.
A healthy community is not a collection of identical people who all think the same way. A healthy community is a symbiotic ecosystem of specialists. It’s the baker who has mastered their craft, the mechanic who can diagnose an engine by its sound, the teacher who has a gift for connecting with a difficult child. Each person has found their niche, and the trade of those unique skills is what makes the entire community stronger, more resilient, and more interesting.
But you cannot find your niche if you do not take the time to look for it. You cannot know your gift if you are too distracted by the noise to listen to your own quiet truths. The work of finding your purpose requires a period of deliberate, and often uncomfortable, time with yourself.
This is not a call to be selfish. It is the opposite. It is a call to take on the most profound responsibility you have: to become the strongest, most authentic, and most useful version of yourself, so that you may then be of genuine service to others.
And this is where we find true happiness. Not the cheap, fleeting kind that comes from a new purchase or a social media “like.” I’m talking about Earned Joy.
Earned Joy is the quiet, bone-deep satisfaction of a craftsman who has spent the day doing the work they were built to do. It is the feeling of a foundation laid true, of a problem solved with elegance, of a community served with integrity. It is the calm that settles in when you know, without a doubt, that you are exactly where you are supposed to be, doing exactly what you are supposed to be doing.
It is a joy that cannot be bought or faked. It must be built. It is the ultimate reward for a life lived with purpose.