Ever just stare at the ceiling in silence and ask yourself, “What am I really doing with my life?”
No noise, no distraction, just you and your thoughts.
It hits you different when you’re alone with that question. You start thinking about the people who were here yesterday but aren't here today. You remember how fast everything can change. One phone call, one moment, and everything is different.
Sometimes, I feel like we’re all just placed here to figure things out blindly. There’s no manual, no clear answers. People come into our lives and some don’t stay long, but most leave something behind. A lesson, a scar, or sometimes just memories. And then life moves on like nothing happened.
Loved ones die and it changes us. Not just emotionally, but deep inside. It makes us question everything. Why are we here if we’ll still end up in the ground one day? Why stress, why hustle, why do we bother?
The truth is, finding your purpose is one of the hardest things ever. People can say “follow your passion” all they want, but real life isn’t that simple. Most times, fear holds us back.
What if I fail?
What if I’m not meant to be anything special?
What if this is all there is?
And still, with all the fear, we wake up every morning and move. We go to jobs that stress us. We smile at people when we’re not okay. We carry responsibilities we didn’t ask for. Not because it’s easy, but because life demands it.
It feels like we’re walking on eggshells, not knowing which day will be our last. But that doesn’t mean we should stop trying. A mother still has to be a mother. A father still has to show up for his family. We all have our roles to play. Just because life is short doesn’t mean we stop living.
Death shouldn’t make us afraid, it should remind us that time is limited. And that should push us to make every day count.
I remember this old man, Mr. Jide, from my neighborhood. He was already in his 70s but still acted like he had forever to live. Always up early, watering plants, sweeping, feeding stray cats. One day I asked him why he still did all that. He looked at me and said, “Because I woke up today. That’s all the reason I need.”
A week later, he died peacefully in his sleep. But that stuck with me. His reason for living wasn’t big or dramatic. It was simple, I woke up today, so I’ll keep moving.
That’s what I try to live by. Even if I don’t know my full purpose yet, I still show up. I still hustle. Because maybe purpose isn’t one big thing. Maybe it’s found in the way we treat people, the way we handle pain, the way we keep going even when life knocks us down.
Some days will be hard. You’ll feel tired, confused, and maybe even hopeless. But as long as you’re still breathing, you still have something to give. Something to do. Someone to love. Or someone depending on you.
So yeah, the hustle continues. Not because life is perfect, but because quitting isn’t an option. The search for purpose might take time, but until then, we keep doing our best with what we have.
