Purpose is the universe of mind that meaning cannot keep.
When purpose is most taken it is emptied of fullness
and meaning returns to its beginning.
The rhythm of filling and emptying passes
only the process remains.
Knowing this
one must proceed in humility and balance.
Purpose is seeking,
this is the greatness of mind.
Purpose is held
and encompassed in meaning.
This is the greatness of emotion
to which purpose strives.
Yet beyond this design there is more.
* * *
Purpose is the mind’s vast expanse,
a world where meaning cannot dance.
For when it fills, it soon must break,
and in the void, its roots awake.
A cycle spins of fill and drain,
where meaning’s form returns,
Yet through this rhythm, pure and true,
the process stands—both old and new.
In knowing this, one humbly stands,
balance held in quiet hands.
Purpose seeks, in silent flight,
the greatness of the mind’s own light.
Purpose wraps in meaning’s fold,
a warmth, a truth that can’t be told.
Yet still, beyond the end and start,
a deeper path stirs in the heart.
For purpose strives, yet cannot see,
the realm where all is meant to be.
Beyond the great, the small, the fine—
a mystery beyond design.
* * *
In a quiet village nestled between misted mountains and wide, open fields, lived an old philosopher named Elias. He had spent his life in search of meaning, walking the delicate line between thought and emotion, mind and heart. His cottage, small and modest, was filled with ancient books, scraps of parchment, and the scent of cedarwood. Yet it was not the books or the knowledge they contained that brought Elias peace—it was the unspoken understanding he had of the rhythm of life itself.
One afternoon, a young man named Alaric arrived at Elias’s door, his eyes filled with restlessness and his heart weighed down with questions. Alaric had heard of the philosopher’s wisdom, and though he did not fully grasp the depth of his search, he knew he had to seek guidance.
“Elias,” Alaric said, standing in the doorway, “I’ve been searching for my purpose. I feel it’s just beyond my reach, like a shadow I can never quite touch. Can you show me the way?”
Elias welcomed him inside and motioned for Alaric to sit by the fire. The room was warm, the flickering flames casting long shadows across the walls. For a long time, Elias said nothing, allowing the quiet to settle between them. Then, slowly, he spoke.
“Purpose, my young friend, is not something that can be held in your hand. It is the universe of the mind, vast and ever shifting, like the stars in the night sky. When you think you’ve grasped it, when it seems within reach, it will slip away. The more you chase it, the emptier you may feel.”
Alaric frowned, confusion clouding his features. “But how can I know what I am meant to do if I don’t chase it?”
Elias smiled gently. “Purpose is like the wind. You cannot hold it, but you can feel it. It moves; it shifts. When it fills you, there is a moment of clarity, but it does not stay. It empties and then begins again. You will never grasp it completely, but you must trust in the process of seeking.”
“But how do I continue, knowing that I will never find it?” Alaric asked, frustration creeping into his voice.
“Ah,” Elias said, his eyes twinkling. “That is the key. When you understand that purpose is a process, not an endpoint, you will begin to walk with humility. The great mind seeks, always reaching, but never clutching. The heart follows, seeking meaning in what the mind desires.”
Alaric paused, letting the weight of the words settle into his chest. “So, the seeking itself is the purpose?”
“Yes. The seeking, the rhythm of it, the knowing that you do not have all the answers—that is the greatness of the mind. The striving is the heart’s greatness. Together, they guide you toward something deeper, something beyond the design you try to create.”
“But what lies beyond that?” Alaric asked, his voice soft now, almost as if the question had slipped out before he could hold it back.
Elias looked out the window at the distant horizon, where the mountains met the sky, the line between the known and the unknown. “Beyond the seeking, beyond the purpose and the meaning, there is still more. But to understand it, you must first let go of the need to understand.”
Alaric sat in silence, contemplating. The fire crackled, and in the stillness, he began to feel something stir deep inside him. Perhaps it was not the answers that mattered, but the questions themselves. Perhaps the seeking, with all its emptiness and fullness, was where he was meant to be.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Elias stood, his back slightly bent with age, but his spirit clear as ever. “The path is before you, Alaric. Walk it with balance, with humility, and you will come to understand the great truth that lies hidden in the process itself.”
And with that, Alaric left the cottage, stepping into the cool evening air. The world seemed vast, but not in a way that overwhelmed him. He now understood that purpose was not something to be caught—it was the dance of life, the rhythm of seeking, emptying, and filling again. And in that rhythm, he would find his place.
As he walked away, he felt lighter. There was still no clear answer, no final destination. But perhaps that was exactly as it should be.
* * *
In a small village at the edge of an ancient forest, there was a monastery where the monks lived in quiet contemplation. Among them was a young monk named Kaelen, who had long struggled with a question that haunted his thoughts each day: What is my purpose?
He spent countless hours in the monastery gardens, his hands tracing the patterns of the wind across the grasses, his mind searching for answers in the rustling of leaves and the chirping of birds. Despite the peace he found in the simplicity of nature, the question remained, unyielding, tugging at his heart.
One evening, after the sun had dipped below the horizon and the stars began to twinkle above, Kaelen found himself in the monastery’s stone courtyard, gazing at the distant peaks of the mountains that surrounded the village. The silence of the evening was only broken by the sound of his breathing, slow and steady.
From behind him, a soft voice broke the stillness. It was Brother Elias, an elder monk known for his wisdom and calm.
“Kaelen,” Elias said, his eyes warm, “you seek the answers to many questions, don’t you?”
Kaelen turned, startled but grateful for the company. “Yes, Brother Elias. I seek to understand the purpose of my life, my reason for being here. But no matter how much I search, it seems elusive.”
Elias smiled, the lines of his face softening in the moonlight. “Purpose, my young friend, is a strange thing. It is not a thing you can grasp. It is not a destination, but a journey. It is the rhythm of life itself—of filling and emptying, seeking and finding, and seeking again.”
Kaelen looked at the elder monk, unsure of what to make of his words. “I don’t understand. If purpose is not something to be found, why must we search for it?”
Elias walked to Kaelen’s side and looked up at the night sky. “You see the stars above us? They seem to be constant, always there, but they are not fixed. They move across the heavens. And though we may not touch them, they guide us, just as purpose guides us.”
Kaelen nodded, trying to picture what Elias meant.
“Purpose,” Elias continued, “is not something to be held. It is a force that flows through us. It fills us when we least expect it, and just as quickly, it empties. But it is in the seeking, in the knowing that we will never fully grasp it, that we find meaning. That is where the true greatness of life lies—in the process, not the end.”
The young monk’s heart stirred. “But does that mean we will never know our purpose?”
“Ah,” Elias replied with a gentle laugh, “we will know it in moments. And those moments will pass, only to return again. But purpose, like the wind or the seasons, is not meant to be held forever. It is meant to be experienced in the moment, felt in the rhythm of seeking.”
Kaelen looked at the distant mountains, where the first hints of light touched the peaks. A sense of peace began to settle in his chest. The weight of his question no longer felt so heavy, for he began to understand that purpose was not a treasure to be found but a companion to walk beside.
“Purpose is like the wind,” Kaelen said slowly, “ever moving, ever changing. And the seeking itself is what matters.”
“Exactly,” Elias said, his voice soft, “the seeking is what gives life its meaning. And when you embrace that rhythm—the ebb and flow—you will find your way. The mind will seek, and the heart will follow.”
Kaelen smiled, a quiet warmth filling him. He had been so focused on finding an answer that he had forgotten to listen to the process itself. The journey was the answer, and in the seeking, he would always be part of something greater than himself.
As he stood there, beside the elder monk, watching the sky grow brighter with the first light of dawn, Kaelen felt the truth of the moment. There was more to the world than answers. There was a deeper truth found in the constant motion of life, in the emptying and filling of the soul, in the delicate dance between purpose and meaning.
And as he walked back toward the monastery, Kaelen knew that no matter where his journey took him, he would walk it with humility, balance, and an open heart, always seeking, always growing.
For the purpose was never the destination—it was the path itself.
* * *
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. All rights reserved. Copyright © 2025 C.G. Garant.
