Purpose and Passion
If I had to sum up my life right now in just two words, they would be purpose and passion. These two words have become steady companions lately—guiding me, nudging me, offering a new way to understand where I’ve been and where I might be headed next.
It’s like I’m paused at a threshold—between one chapter and the next, one version of myself and another yet to unfold.
Life has a way of circling back, of weaving lessons together in patterns we can only see once we’ve lived them long enough.
After years of doing, building, adjusting, persevering—I find myself in a moment of quiet reflection, with purpose in one hand and passion in the other.
These words are at almost opposite ends of the spectrum.
Purpose, to me, is grounded. It’s the steady rhythm that has carried me through tough seasons and big decisions. It’s the reason I’ve kept showing up to this work—the magazine, the events, the stories. Purpose gives shape to my days and clarity to my choices. It’s the part of me that asks, What needs attention? What matters most right now? It’s practical. Anchored. Intentional.
Passion, on the other hand, is more elusive. It doesn’t always announce itself with a clear agenda. It whispers. It waits for space. It’s the spark that got me started on this path in the first place—the part of me that wanted to create something meaningful, something that could uplift others and reflect the depth of being human. Passion is what makes the work feel alive. It’s what lights up the soul behind the structure.
There are times in life when survival, logistics, and sheer effort take over. When purpose carries the weight and passion seems to recede. And then, something stirs again. A sense that it’s time to bring both parts back into balance. To let the heart have as much voice as the head. To let creativity, curiosity, and vision have room alongside structure and strategy.
That seems to be where I find myself these days. It feels less like reinvention and more like evolution. A weaving together of what has been and what wants to be. Not throwing anything out—just making space for what’s been waiting quietly in the wings.
When I first began publishing this magazine, it was to celebrate people who were doing extraordinary things in the second half of life. That hasn’t changed—but the lens is widening.
I’m increasingly drawn to the stories behind the stories. What internal shifts have helped people thrive? What values are guiding their choices? What are they letting go of, and what are they holding close?
More and more, I am asking those same questions of myself. Not only as an editor or publisher, but as a person navigating their own unfolding.
What do I value most now? How do I want to spend my energy? What feels true? What’s ready to be released?
This is about listening. Attuning and giving voice to what has been quietly forming beneath the surface.
I can feel the next chapter of my life beginning to form. It has more spaciousness. More room for expression. More honesty. Less urgency.
If there’s a metaphor for this moment, it’s a doorway. I’ve stepped out of one room—the one I’ve lived in for a long time. I know its shape, its furniture, its view. I learned so much there. But now I’m standing in the threshold, taking a breath before crossing into a space I haven’t yet explored. A space that might ask something different of me. Or offer something unexpected.
I don’t know exactly what’s in that room. But I sense it holds potential. A deeper way of showing up. A fuller integration of the life I’ve lived and the life I still want to create.
Purpose—steady, seasoned, clear-eyed. And passion—lighter, brighter, eager to play again. Together, they feel like a compass.
I know I’m not alone in asking these questions. So many of us are standing in some kind of threshold—between roles, identities, eras of our lives. Wondering what to hold onto and what to let fall away. Trying to stay open, even when the future feels uncertain.
If you’re in that space, I hope these words resonate. We don’t need to rush through the doorway. We can linger. We can listen. We can let both purpose and passion guide us—not toward perfection, but toward a life that feels more aligned, more expressive, more true.
A Call for Light in Uncertain Times
With so much turmoil in the world and a constant stream of unsettling news, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed or discouraged. But I believe we each carry within us a light—something steady, brave, and deeply human—that can help not only ourselves, but each other.
Now, more than ever, we need to engineer ways to uplift our spirits, stay hopeful, and remind one another of what still matters.
I’d like to invite you, our readers, to share short letters or reflections about how you find resilience in difficult times.
How do you stay grounded in a world that sometimes doesn’t make sense?
What helps you move forward when life feels uncertain? What gives you courage, strength, or joy?
This isn’t a call for preaching or politicking. What I’m looking for are stories and messages rooted in lived experience, emotional wisdom, and human connection.
Whether through the pages of this magazine or a special page on our website, I want to share these reflections—your words, your voices.
Please send your thoughts to [email protected]. We may lightly edit or curate for clarity, but your heart will come through. Let’s share messages of inner hope and purpose.
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