Purpose becomes meaningful
meaning becomes purposeful.
A design,
perpetually changing one into the other.
If you think you know purpose
all you really know is what meaning is like.
Purpose has meaning and meaning has purpose.
Each follows the other's urging of what is next.
Everything moves, everything changes
except the unchanging Tao.
* * *
In the dance of purpose and meaning,
Two rivers forever intertwining,
Purpose, like light, casts its glow,
Meaning takes form, then lets it go.
One gives shape, the other breath,
Chasing the endless cycle, life and death.
Purpose whispers, "Follow me,"
Meaning answers, "Wait and see."
Each a guide, yet both are lost,
In the shifting winds, we pay the cost.
To think you know is but a start
A fleeting glimpse, a moment’s art.
For purpose lives in meaning’s hand,
And meaning blooms where purpose stands.
Together they move, forever entwined,
In the constant flow of the shifting mind.
And yet, beyond this ebb and flow,
The Tao remains, the only constant glow.
Unchanged, unmoved, it stands apart,
The silent stillness of the heart.
* * *
In a village nestled by a quiet river, there was an old weaver named Li Wei, known for creating intricate tapestries that seemed to capture the flow of life itself. People came from far and wide to gaze at his works, each piece alive with color and depth. They marveled at how the patterns within the threads shifted and swirled, almost as if they told a story, yet no one could quite understand what that story was.
One day, a curious young traveler named Mei arrived in the village. She had heard tales of Li Wei’s tapestries and the strange beauty they held. She sought him out, hoping to uncover the meaning behind his art.
Li Wei greeted her warmly and invited her to watch him weave. As the shuttle passed back and forth, Mei asked, “Master, what does your tapestry mean?
Li Wei paused and looked up, his eyes reflecting the calm flow of the river outside. “Meaning, like purpose, is not something fixed. It is always changing. A design, once formed, finds its way into something else. Just as the river is always flowing, the threads move through my hands, one after the other, constantly shifting. The tapestry has no one meaning. Instead, it becomes the meaning as it unfolds.”
Mei frowned, trying to grasp the thought. “But what is the purpose of your weaving? What is its end goal?”
Li Wei smiled gently. “Ah, the end goal—purpose—is not something that can be known in advance. Purpose, much like meaning, is a moving target. It follows the urging of each moment. You see, when I weave, each thread calls for the next. The purpose is not predetermined; it grows from the meaning of the moment, from the rhythm of the shuttle.”
Mei looked at the tapestry once more, trying to understand. The colors swirled and the patterns shifted, each new section melding with the last, yet nothing seemed to stand still. "So the design never stays the same?" she asked.
“Exactly,” Li Wei said. "Purpose becomes meaningful, and meaning becomes purposeful. The two transform into one another, like the river flowing around the rocks, always changing, yet never losing its essence. What you see now will be different tomorrow, and in that difference, it will still be the same. In life, everything moves and changes, except the changing Tao."
Mei sat in silence, watching the shuttle dance in and out of the loom. She could see now that the tapestry was not merely a static thing to be interpreted—it was a living, breathing thing. Just as each moment of life held both purpose and meaning, the weaving too was alive with both. And though the design might shift from moment to moment, there was a quiet peace in knowing that this constant change was the true purpose of the journey.
As the sun set and the river reflected the golden light, Mei felt a sense of clarity settle within her. In the changing dance of purpose and meaning, she realized, the journey itself was the destination.
* * *
In a land where the horizon met the sky in an endless expanse, two rivers wound through the valley like ancient serpents, their waters flowing in unison. They were not just rivers, but embodiments of something far deeper—Purpose and Meaning—each with its own force, each with its own yearning.
Purpose was the first to arrive in the valley. It was the river that ran fast, carving its way through mountains, relentless and sharp, giving direction to everything it touched. It whispered to the world, "Follow me," its current urgent and insistent. Those who heard the call felt an invisible pull, as though they were meant to go somewhere, to do something, to shape their lives around a singular goal. Purpose was a compass, but not a gentle one.
Meaning followed not far behind. It was softer, slower—its flow serene and deep. Meaning moved like a dream, its waters swirling in endless patterns, sometimes calm, sometimes turbulent, but always flowing with a sense of grace. "Wait and see," it murmured. Meaning asked the world to pause, to breathe, to reflect. It carried with it the subtle knowledge that every moment, every action, had its own quiet depth, its own unique beauty, but it was ever-changing. Meaning could not be grasped forever. It came and went, like a breath or a thought.
The two rivers intertwined, their waters mixing, merging, but never losing their own nature. Together, they formed a greater current—a dance between purpose and meaning that shaped everything in its path.
One day, a traveler came upon the rivers. He had journeyed far, seeking answers. He had heard the whispers of both Purpose and Meaning, but he did not understand how they could coexist. He looked at Purpose, which rushed forward with a clear direction, and then to Meaning, which meandered gracefully, seemingly without any destination.
The traveler sat on a stone by the riverbank, watching the flow of the two streams. "Which one should I follow?" he asked aloud. "Which will guide me to the truth?"
Purpose answered first, its voice carrying with the force of the wind. "Follow me. I am the path, the goal. Without me, you will wander aimlessly."
But before the traveler could reply, Meaning’s voice echoed softly. "No, wait. It is not enough to follow a path. You must understand the meaning of each step, the quiet truths that hide in every moment."
The traveler’s heart was torn. Both were true, both were needed, but he could not see how they fit together. He knew he could not have both at once—yet here they were, entwined, moving together in a dance that seemed endless.
As the traveler sat in silence, his mind quieted. The rivers flowed around him, and for the first time, he saw beyond the waters. Above the dance of the rivers, something else stirred, a presence that was still and unmoving. It was a light that did not shine in the way the sun did, but rather in the way a deep truth might glow from within. This was the Tao, the eternal stillness that lay beyond both Purpose and Meaning.
And in that moment, the traveler understood. The rivers were necessary, for they shaped the world, guiding lives and hearts. But the Tao was the heart of the world—silent, still, and unchanging. It was the only constant in a world that constantly moved, the only light in the endless ebb and flow of life.
He smiled softly, standing up from the stone. "I see now," he whispered. "Purpose gives shape to my journey, and Meaning gives it depth. But it is the Tao that is my true home, the silent center where all things begin and end."
And so, the traveler continued his way, walking beside the rivers but never forgetting the stillness that lay beyond them. The dance of Purpose and Meaning would continue, but the silent glow of the Tao would always be the constant in his heart.
* * *
Designing the gap between divine omniscience
and mortal awareness.
Find your truth. Know your mind. Follow your heart. Love eternal will not be denied. Discernment is an integral part of self-mastery. You may share this post on a non-commercial basis, the author and URL to be included. Please note … posts are continually being edited. All rights reserved. Copyright © 2025 C.G. Garant.
