To Live on Purpose is to Serve
In fact, it's the only way to serve
The Wrong Question
“How did you get to be doing the work that you do?”
The question came from a place of hope. It was asked by a former employee of the company I now consult for—someone who wanted more money, more respect, more authority. He wanted to sit in the seat I sit in now.
On paper, it’s a fair question. But beneath it is something more primal: a longing to feel free and respected at the same time. And for most people, it’s a hopeless question—not because they’re not capable, but because they’re asking the wrong thing.
They want to replicate a destination without understanding the path.
The Real Path
I didn’t apply for the work that I do. In fact, I’m still creating the job description. I didn’t follow a playbook to land high-paying consulting work. I worked for free for over two years, living minimally, keeping the lights on with catering gigs. When COVID hit, I collected unemployment and spent that year studying relentlessly—reading, reflecting, refining. I published blogs and videos daily for months with barely any traction. I poured myself into events that made no money.
And through it all, I was watching. Listening. Building something far more valuable than a brand: I was building trust. A reputation. A life.
People began to see that I wasn’t pretending. That I meant what I said. That I was living in alignment—not performance.
That’s what they’re really asking about when they ask how I got here. They want to know how to live with that kind of sovereignty.
What They’re Actually After
Because I do exactly what I want to do and very little else. I’ve created a life where I get to be who I am 100% of the time. And the people who are smart enough to see it know that’s actually what they’re chasing—not the business, not the authority, but the alignment.
One of my clients—someone who by all external metrics is more “successful” than I am—once said, almost jokingly, “There’s Andy, being exactly who he wants to be.”
That’s what he’s after too. He just doesn’t know how to get there yet.
He’s starting to see. But after years of conditioning, of performing, of building a life that doesn’t quite fit, it’s hard to tell what’s real anymore. That’s the cost of misalignment: confusion, numbness, exhaustion. And when we begin the work of returning to ourselves, things start to fall apart. Comfort zones shrink. Old stories stop making sense.
The Cost of Obligation
Most of us are so used to living out of obligation that we’ve built entire systems—both mental and social—to justify it.
“Everyone does things they don’t want to do. It’s just part of being an adult.”
“It’s selfish to do what I want, isn’t it?”
These aren’t just innocent questions. They’re armor.
But the truth is, the more we act from obligation, the more we reinforce the lie that betrayal ourselves is not just acceptable, but necessary. We perform politeness while starving our spirit. And when we do that, we model it to everyone around us. We normalize the lie.
The Moment I Stayed Still
When George Floyd was murdered, I was living in Minneapolis. The city exploded. Protest, grief, fire, fury—it was all there. And while many people I love took to the streets, I didn’t.
Not because I didn’t care. But because I knew I had a different role to play. I stayed still. I stayed grounded. I stayed focused.
There were moments I let guilt sway me. But I didn’t let it consume me.
And I know people judged me for that. Friends, maybe former friends. Some probably thought I was selfish. Maybe I was.
But I was aligned.
And I have built a life on this fundamental belief: to live on purpose is to serve. In fact, it’s the only way to serve.
That doesn’t mean we don’t show up for people. But we don’t do it at the cost of our own soul.
Living Honestly, So Others Can Too
So sure, go to the family function. Show up for the birthday party. Attend the meeting. But ask yourself honestly: is this helping me stay aligned with what I’m really here to do? Or am I just keeping up the charade?
Because every time we participate in something that’s not true for us, we reinforce the idea that this is what being human means—to betray ourselves, quietly and constantly.
The only way to shift that story is to tell a new one. To live a new one.
And it starts, always, with honesty.
Be honest about what you want. Not what you should want. Not what others expect you to want. But what you actually want, deep down.
That’s where the real work begins. That’s where alignment takes root.
That’s how we change the world.