Where do you find purpose in life?
On fake birthdays, transcending work, and articulating purpose
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Today is the day after my dad’s fake birthday.
If you have not heard this story: When one of my brothers was born the same month as my dad, my mom moved my dad’s birthday to an unoccupied month. I suspect she chose a day of the week that was convenient that particular year because the numerical dates of his real and reassigned birthdays do not match.
What a baller.
I only learned this story in my 20s—when I was getting my marriage license processed—and to this day, I need to look at a picture of my dad’s gravestone to remind myself that his real birth date is April 16. The real date just does not stick in my brain.
My dad did not enjoy a long life; he died at age 71 and for most of the years we co-existed on the planet, his purpose was singular and exhausting: to work to provide for his family, which included seven children, his mother and his in-laws (who all lived in our house), and a rotating cast of immigrating family members who my parents welcomed into their home no matter how tight the quarters and finances.
I feel confident in saying that my dad’s work was devoid of joy. My parents ran a convenience store in a tough neighborhood of Boston and in its peak activity years, they opened by 7am and closed at 11pm. My dad spent most of those hours behind the cash register. The days and tasks were monotonous—broken up only by intense stressors such as periodic robberies, the occasional assault, and racial slurs spray painted on the metal pull-down gate. (I also have a vague recollection of finding feces smeared on the gate locks; I will need to fact check that with one of my siblings.) My dad got a break from cash register and shoplifter watch patrol once my mom brought the evening shift of workers (me and my siblings) and dinner, which we took turns eating on a fold-out card table behind the defunct meat counter at the back of the store.
My mom’s days were difficult and relentless in a different way—she shuttled and took care of all of the basics for her brood of seven, cared for her parents and mother-in-law, did all of the household errands and laundry, cooked all of the food, and managed all of the home and business finances. She slept very little; sometimes in brief bursts sitting upright. I suppose one saving grace was that these daily tasks involved changes of scenery, but it was significant that she also remained connected to her faith and had a curious spirit—she was always keen on learning, whether it was cooking technique, music, English language idioms, or something else. (It was a tremendous gift that she agreed to talk about the power of curiosity on my podcast last year.)
After decades of slog, my parents sold the store and retired. And not long after they retired, my dad’s health began to decline while my mom thrived. It felt like a bitter irony—they were supposed to now have the space to enjoy life—but in retrospect it wasn’t surprising at all. My parents didn’t have the same tools in their toolkit, and I do think my dad’s singular focus on work—which I 100% understand came from a practical, scarcity-driven place—contributed to his early demise.
My mind started turning again on aging in the later decades after interviewing Daniel Levitin for my Boston Globe Magazine essay, An ageist incident at work made my blood boil. Then I realized something essential. There is a whole separate story for why it was fascinating to reconnect with Dan as an expert source for a piece I was writing, given that he and I first met more than 20 years ago when I was a Ph.D. student. That aside, Dan, who is the author of Successful Aging: A Neuroscientist Explores the Power and Potential of Our Lives, shared that while, yes, things like exercise and nutrition are important, a crucial determinant of healthy aging is to have a sense of purpose—something that gives meaning to your life, gives you something to look forward to, gives you a reason to get out of bed every morning. I thought about my dad when Dan commented about how when one’s sense of self through work is taken away, it can be detrimental to long-term psychological and physical outcomes.
In the piece I wrote for Boston Globe Magazine, I shared about how part of my transformation over the past nine months since making my leap into uncertainty boiled down to me evaluating the role of work in my life in order to become a complete human being. Like my dad, for so many years I lived and breathed—and felt that my purpose lay in—work. As a college student working around the clock meant survival, given that I was on my own financially starting sophomore year. As a graduate student and then postdoctoral fellow I felt the pressure of academic culture—a distinct feeling that my self-worth was dependent on me being the first in and the last out at the lab each workday. After leaving academia, as I built various businesses, I was charting so much new territory that the combination of a steep learning curve, feeling energized about the work, and wrestling with my financial scarcity fears meant that work was all consuming. It’s also notable that I have worked out of my home since 2006 so the lines between work and home blurred due to physical space.
I still sometimes need to remind myself of what is true when my financial scarcity fears come knocking at the door, but what feels so much stronger—beautifully so—is feeling tuned to seeking purpose in different lanes as a complete human being. As such, I thought it would be an interesting exercise to articulate some purpose statements.
As a partner I want to show up as a collaborator and joyful co-conspirator in life. I want to take care of my physical and mental health so Jon and I can enjoy a long, active life together. I want to make him feel seen and heard and deeply cared for through my words and actions. I want us to challenge one another in service of growth and support one another and the things we care about. I want to continue to delight together in food, movies, games, exploration, jokes, and all the other seemingly small moments that make for a full and fun life. I never want to take for granted this extraordinary relationship.
As a parent I want to be a loving champion of my kids’ exploration, experimentation, stumbles, and growth as they figure out who they are, what lights them up, and how they want to show up in the world. I want Laurel and Violet to know that I am always in their corner to care, listen, support, ideate, laugh, and dream. I want them to know my love is forever and always unconditional. I want to continue to learn from them, whether we’re talking about baking or organic chemistry or books or geography or musicals.
As a friend and family member I want to be a trustworthy vault; a loving ear who can always be counted on to hold space and listen when needed. I want to maintain and build relationships that have the foundational trust and care that allows for the issuing of compassionate direct sauce when needed. I want to be a bearer of tasty treats, deliverer of funny GIFs, issuer of kind words, sender of unexpected snail mail, champion of personal passions and professional projects.
As a citizen and community member I want to get people fired up about civic responsibilities like voting and jury duty. I want to support local businesses and community growth, create connections, be a good neighbor. I want to use my voice to advocate for improvement, champion programs, elevate diverse voices, smash the patriarchy, and help people distill complex issues into simpler terms and tangible actions.
As a professional I want to articulate the stories and moments that connect us, help people find agency and joy in their lives through tiny moments and actions, disrupt negative (untrue) narratives, elevate people doing great work, and work with clients whose missions are brave and human focused. I want my values to always remain the North Star against which I make my business decisions—versus making choices based on fear, greed, or ego.
As a human being irrespective of categorical definitions, I want to prioritize rest, trust instead of fear, be curious, nurture my creative spirit, unwind trauma, keep working on emotional fluency, prioritize experiences over stuff, stay grounded in what is true and present, be my weird multidimensional self always, and continue to find tiny levers for delight and discovery each and every day. I want to bake delicious treats, learn how to garden and respect the land, love animals, play games, delight in puzzles and books, split and stack firewood, and explore new hobbies.
These are a lot of reasons to get out of bed in the morning, and I sure am grateful for it. I hope this post will inspire some reflection on the possibilities of where you can tap into your sense of purpose in life.
P.S. I was honored to be featured in
’s series on creativity. It was fascinating to reflect on the arc of creativity in my life so far, especially as it relates to historical adversity. Thank you for welcoming me into your space, Heidi!
Once again, Christine, a beautifully written piece. As the oldest, I had a firsthand view of what our Dad's life and I can confirm that we would make the long drive to the convenience store to often see hateful graffiti sprayed on the face of our store and the metal lockbox where newspapers were stored and broken glass and feces all over the sidewalk.
Not once, but twice, drunk drivers plowed through the front of our store. The repair would take days leaving the front of the store exposed to looters, so Dad and I spent many nights sleeping on the floor in one of the aisles to protect the inventory. Didn't get a lot of sleep on those nights...
Like you, the path of my life has been an exercise in charting out a different path, one that honored the focus and sacrifice that I respected in our Dad, but also one that honored the fact that personal joy is important since we only get one trip in this life. Dad always said that our job was to make sure that the next generation had it better than we did, and I'm proud to say that for all his grandchildren, this is absolutely true. Each of us has worked hard to figure out what is important and let our children know that they are unconditionally loved and supported.
While his life was short and did not have much personal joy, I do believe that he got much satisfaction out of seeing his children grow up educated and all working hard to find their way in the world, even if it's not the path that he had planned for us. He loved being there for his family, and I do believe he took great pride in how close we all were...and still are.
It's been 18 years since he passed, but I do believe that he is with us always and is extremely proud.
Thank you for remembering him and honoring him in this way. We are all better because he was our Dad...
This is such an interesting story. Thank you.