Why Am I Here?

Like millions of dreamers who had gone before me, the move to the big city was filled with possibilities. It was also a shock to the system.  

I moved to New York’s Upper West Side from Warren, Vermont, the bucolic Green Mountain town known mostly as the home of Sugarbush Resort.

I quickly learned that life in New York is expensive and, within weeks, I was working two jobs as a freelance landscape designer. One of them was at an architecture firm in Chelsea, where a former professor introduced me to the founder. The work was not inspiring, but it’s what I had trained for, so I stayed.

Even with two jobs, I couldn’t afford life in New York, so I did what I had done before. I looked for a hospitality job. A restaurant down the street from the firm needed a host. It was Union Square Cafe. I had never heard of it.

I applied one afternoon, and I still remember my first impression of the place. As I sat at the bar completing the application, I observed the way the staff interacted. They were setting up for dinner service, and they moved like a well-choreographed dance troupe. They were also having a great time.  I interviewed with the manager, who could not have been more welcoming, and he offered me a job. As I left the restaurant, I thought,

“That was weird. Isn’t New York supposed to be mean?”

I started working there in the evenings and on days off from the design firms. I had been in New York for two months, and I already had three jobs.    

For over a year, I kept all of them. But with each passing week, a tension grew within me.

I loved my work at the restaurant, but I was supposed to love being a designer even more. Unfortunately, that wasn’t true.

An inner conflict was raging, and for nearly two years, I fought between what I thought I should do and what I was meant to do. Since the age of 10, my identity was tied to being a designer. The decision was torture, but I eventually overcame my shame and fear of embarrassment. At the age of 27, I finally made the decision. I walked away from my lifelong plan and committed to the restaurant. 

Slowly, something became clear. I wasn’t drawn to hospitality by accident. I was drawn to the feeling it created and the opportunity to help people feel welcome, seen, and cared for.  I began to understand that I was meant to help people find joy in everyday moments.

 And that realization changed everything.

I’ve learned that purpose isn’t always found in what we were trained to do. It’s revealed in the moments that make us feel most alive, most useful, and most connected to others.

Even with my shift in mindset, though, I still wasn’t thinking long-term. Back then, being a maitre d’ was a game. Once each shift was over, I didn’t think about my impact.

When I was promoted to manager, I saw that my impact extended to my colleagues and the people I led. I wasn’t prepared to consider myself a leader, but I slowly gained confidence and started to see that a career in hospitality would be the perfect vehicle to live out my purpose.

What took me so long? I still ask myself that question.

Have you ever felt the pull between what you think you’re supposed to do and what you believe you’re meant to do? If you have, you’re not alone. I’ve been there.

So let me ask you the question that changed everything for me:

Why are you here?

Take a day, a week, or a month to record your thoughts. Consider the impact you make on the people around you and the parts of your work, relationships, or hobbies that create meaning. Notice how people respond to you when you’re at your best. What do they thank you for? How do they rely on you?

If you’ve been avoiding this question, consider what’s been holding you back.

For me, it was the fear of being vulnerable, the fear of failure, and the fear of letting go of the identity I had created for myself. Sometimes, when I’m being especially self-critical, I wonder what might have transpired had I been more intentional, more vulnerable, and more courageous earlier in my career.  How many more people could I have helped if I hadn’t resisted?

Here’s what I know now.

Your purpose is already showing up in your life. You just have to notice it.

It’s in the moments that give you energy. The interactions that feel meaningful. The impact you have on others when you’re at your best.

The question isn’t whether you have a purpose. It’s whether you’re willing to choose it.

Until next time, make it a great shift.