Three Questions to Find Your Purpose When You Feel Lost

But what do I actually want?

I sat with that question for months. Stared at blank journal pages. Googled "how to find your purpose" at 3 AM like it was something I could have delivered overnight. My roadmap was gone, and honestly, I felt lost.

I had no idea how to go about "finding" a purpose I was so disconnected from. And trust me, I tried everything! Those corporate "vision board" exercises. Those "what's your why?" motivational posts. Those "find your passion" TED talks that make it sound like your purpose is just hiding under a rock somewhere, waiting for you to discover it.  I read it all. I watched it all. I listen. To. It. All.

And somewhere between listening to a podcast while making dinner and watching YouTube at 2 AM, it hit me. Your purpose isn't lost. It's buried. Under expectations, fear, and every voice that told you what you should want.

When you've spent a lifetime living according to someone else's plan, you don't just forget what you want. You forget who you are. For those of us who've been rule-followers, people-pleasers, box-checkers? We've become so good at tuning into everyone else's frequency that we can't hear our own signal.

That's when I stumbled onto three questions that changed everything. Not because they gave me instant answers, but because they gave me a way back to myself.

The Three Questions (Why They Work When Everything Else Doesn't)

"Well, Shari, what are the three questions?", you ask.

Okay, slow down. Before we get to the three questions, let's get clear on what we're actually looking for: We're not trying to find THE purpose. The one perfect thing you were put on earth to do. We're trying to reconnect with what matters to YOU. What makes you feel alive instead of just productive?

Purpose isn't always this big, grand, "change the world" calling. Sometimes it's quieter than that. Sometimes it's about how you want to show up. What you want to protect. What kind of life you want to wake up to after a long week.

Question 1: "What would I do if no one was watching?"

This question is about removing the audience.

When I first sat with this question, I realized how much of my life was curated for outside approval. The career I'd built? It looked impressive on paper. The image I projected? Put-together, handling it all. Even my southern accent was washed away.  But if nobody was watching?

I'd be writing. I'd be baking more. I'd say no to about 70% of my commitments. I'd spend Saturday mornings dancing instead of running errands. I'd let my house be messier and my schedule be emptier.

WISE ACTION: TRY THIS

Grab a journal. Set a timer for 10 minutes. Write without editing, without judgment: If no one would ever know what I chose. What would I do with my life? My days? My energy?

Don't censor. The truth is usually in the middle of the page, in the sentence that makes you pause and think, Oh. That.

Pay attention to what you'd START doing and what you'd STOP doing. That gap between your current life and your "no one's watching" life? That's your compass.

Question 2: "What makes me forget time exists?"

This question is about finding your flow.

Think about the thing that absorbs you so completely that three hours pass and it feels like twenty minutes. The thing you do, and suddenly look up and realize you missed lunch. For me, it's creating. For you, it might be organizing, creating, having deep conversations, teaching, being in nature, or problem-solving.

It doesn't have to be your job. It doesn't have to make money. It doesn't have to be "productive." It just has to make time disappear.

WISE ACTION: TRY THIS

Look back at the last month. When were you so absorbed in something that you forgot to check your phone, forgot about your to-do list, forgot to worry? 

List everything that's ever made you forget time exists. Even if it was years ago, even if it seems impractical today. Then ask yourself: How can I build more of this into my life this week?

Your purpose lives in your flow state. That's where you're most yourself.

If you can't remember the last time that happened? That's telling you something too. It could be a signal that you've been so busy managing life that you haven't made space for living it.

Question 3: "What would I regret not doing?"

This question confronts your mortality in the healthiest way possible.

The question that cuts through noise and gets to what actually matters. After losing my dad in my mid-20s, all the things I was postponing felt unbearably urgent.

What would I regret? Not getting the dog. Not repairing that friendship. Not spending enough time with my mom while she's here.

What would I NOT regret? Working less. Having a smaller shoe collection. Disappointing people who didn't have my best interest at heart.

WISE ACTION: TRY THIS

Imagine yourself at 80, looking back. Write two lists:

1. I would regret not...

2. I would NOT regret…

Be honest. Don't write what sounds noble. Write what's true. Then ask: What's one thing on my regrets list I could start this month?

Turn These Questions Into Value Anchors

What shows up across all three questions? For me: connection, creativity, truth-telling, freedom.  Your themes might be: service, beauty, learning, adventure, justice, rest, community, growth.

Name your themes. These are your value anchors.

Audit your life. How much of your time and energy aligns with your themes? How much contradicts them? If "freedom" is a theme, but your calendar is packed with obligations that you have started to resent, that's misalignment.

Make one aligned choice this week. Start, stop, or do something differently. Revisit quarterly. Watch how your answers deepen and start pointing you in a direction you couldn't see before.

The Permission You Need

These three questions aren't magic. But they're a way back to yourself when you've been lost in everyone else's expectations. You're allowed to want something different than what you were taught to want. You're allowed for your purpose to be smaller, quieter, more ordinary than you thought it "should" be.

You're allowed to still be figuring it out. The roadmap is gone. But your compass? It's been inside you all along, waiting for you to get quiet enough to hear it.

You followed the roadmap. Now what? Learn to choose your path when there are no more rules to follow with these resources below:

Next: "The Grief Nobody Talks About: Mourning the Life You Thought You'd Have"