The Purpose We Find in Other People

A Story

Several weeks ago, on a Friday, I went to a local restaurant to get a breakfast sandwich for my son to take to work. He has one of these jobs where you have to be somewhere five days a week, and I wanted to support him. 

The restaurant owner is something of a local legend. She is often, well, surly. My son and I love it. She’s authentic in a way that never happens with the “Hi, I’m so-and-so, and I’ll be taking care of you today” scripts found in corporate food service. 

After she made the sandwich, she handed it to me in a bag, and then she started telling me about her life. While I didn’t expect this, it didn’t entirely surprise me. With age, I seem to have developed a “tell me about yourself” vibe, and so it happens with some regularity. Maybe it’s because I study life purpose. People subconsciously sniff out that I am interested in how people live their lives. 

I stood in front of the counter in my morning attire—slippers, pajama pants, BBQ-themed t-shirt, and tousled hair. My mind was planning what I’d get done that morning when I realized that she had veered into something deeply personal and meaningful. 

Some years back, she had someone very dear to her disappear. Not disappear in the sense of calling the police. Rather, disappear as in a loved one unexpectedly breaking all contact and moving away. The resulting confusion and pain were overwhelming for her. Even hearing about it years later was deeply emotional. 

Ultimately, there was resolution. They realized that there had been an underlying and most unfortunate misunderstanding. They ended up reuniting at a family wedding. The restaurant owner showed me photographs of that moment. There they were, in formal attire, holding each other tightly, joy on their faces. 

My simple breakfast-sandwich run ended up being this beautiful moment. In it, I experienced her loss, grief, joy, and tentative hope for the future. Her sense of self involved her family member, and when that person left, it was as if part of her disappeared as well. This got me thinking about purpose and relationships.

An Idea

There’s a paradox with purpose. We focus on “our” life purpose, but it almost always involves “other” people. 

Stanford psychologist William Damon identifies purpose as having several core characteristics: it is forward-facing, meaningful, and beyond the self. 

“Beyond the self” takes different forms. It could involve the physical world or even animals. It could be going beyond our current self. But, most of the time, it’s located in how we interact with other people. So, take them away, and we have much less opportunity for purpose. 

Naturally, society has a say in how this happens. We implicitly think of purpose as our own personal journey. This is true. But it's also shaped by the world around us.

Consider how we live today when it comes to relationships.

We live many miles away from those we love most—too far for daily contact. The small, unplanned moments that form the bedrock of life together disappear. 

We spend hours a day looking at screens. While we’re looking at people—our favorite subjects—we’re not interacting with them. In fact, we usually don’t know them personally. Instead, we’re just… looking at screens. 

We’re wealthy enough that we can avoid the awkwardness of asking other people for help. We just hire professionals. This removes the forced interdependence that brings people together as they trade favors. 

Purpose involves other people. By virtue of steadily pulling us away from others, modern society is eroding our ability to live purposefully. 

What’s the answer? As with most solutions, it combines awareness and action. Knowing how society works against us, we can’t assume that deep, meaningful relationships will naturally spring up in our lives. Instead, we need to work at making them happen. This means forethought, planning, and effort. 

Psychologists call this “minding” relationships. Minding is the ongoing work of making relationships work. We manage them as we would any other important resource in our lives. 

Minding takes various forms. It is knowing and being known, interpreting people’s behavior generously, showing acceptance and respect, and acting in ways that protect and strengthen the bond. Rather than taking a relationship for granted, it actively nurtures it. In the end, people feel seen, valued, and emotionally connected.

A Resource

This raises the question of how we build and strengthen our relationships.

Every once in a while, a young person asks me for relationship advice. Usually, it’s a student or family member looking for wisdom of the aged. 

Here’s my advice: Don’t ask sociologists for advice about relationships. 

Spend more than about 20 minutes in a sociology department, and you’ll realize that we’re not selected for empathy, compassion, and commitment to others’ well-being. We’re trained at thinking about people rather than interacting with them. 

Still, there are plenty of other people who have thought deeply about relationships because of an unlikely source: capitalism. Our society financially rewards people who solve other people’s problems, and the erosion of relationships is a problem. As a result, various experts have created books, videos, podcasts, workshops, and so on about how to connect to others. 

Here’s one that you might not know about: Project Connect by Jessica Gifford. Gifford was the director of the Wellness Center at Hampshire College. In that capacity, she realized that many of the students’ problems were ultimately rooted in loneliness. So, she created a program to foster connection, and now she offers it more widely. In it, she teaches specific skills for reducing isolation, creating connection, and building belonging. 

She shares her insights on her blog: https://projectconnect-us.com/blog.

My Friday morning several weeks ago reminded me of how much my own sense of purpose is rooted in my relationships with other people, and it left me wanting to mind my own relationships more intentionally.

Personal Update

Recently, I led a purpose workshop for students at Laney College—a community college in downtown Oakland. It was wonderful connecting with students who, for the most part, are in different life circumstances than students at traditional four-year universities. Also, the staff were amazing. They showed up for their students in ways that go well beyond their job descriptions. The college runs on their heart, and it was a pleasure to contribute, however small, to the good work that they are doing.

I was in the San Francisco area visiting my son and his family. His two-year-old and I spent a lot of time hiding plastic Easter eggs from each other and chasing each other around the house with a silly intensity. The six-month-old and I had a simpler arrangement. I held him, we looked at each other, and we made nonsensical noises.

My grandchildren, of course, are too young to remember my visit. But after I got home, my daughter-in-law sent me a video of the kids. The six-month-old was lying on his back. The two-year-old sat on the floor next to him, and raised his hands up and down on his younger brother’s stomach, and they both laughed with delight. I was so pleased! I had played the piano on the two-year-old multiple times, using his stomach as a keyboard and tickling him while I played an imaginary song. At least I’ve passed one thing of value on to my grandsons!

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Thank you for this time together. If you want to interact with me about these or other things, send me an email at bradley@bradleywrightphd.com.